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THE  LIFE 


OF    THE 


REV.  THOMAS  ^COTT,  D.  D 


RECTOR  OF  ASTON  SANDFORD,  BUCKS ; 


INCLUDING  A  NARRATIVE  DRAWN  UP  BY  HIMSELF,  AND  COPIOUS 
EXTRACTS  OF  HIS  LETTERS  : 


BY  JOHN   SCOTT,  A.  M. 

VICAK   OF  NORTH    FERRIBT,    AND    MINISTER   OP   ST.  MARt's,    HTTLE. 


**  They  glorified  God  in  me."     Gal.  i.  24. 

*<  I  laboured  more  abundantly — yet  not  I,  but  the  g^race  of  God 
which  was  with  me."     1  Coa.  xv.  10. 


PHILADELPHIA  : 

PUBLISHED  BY  W.  W.  WOODWARD,  AT  THE  S.  W.  CORNER  OF  CHESNUT 

AND  SECOND  STREETS. 


JH'  Carty  &  Davis,  printers. 

1823. 


PREFACE. 


It  is  not  my  intention  to  add  to  a  volume,  already  pei*° 
haps  too  bulkly,  by  here  enlarging  on  any  of  those  topics 
which  the  subject  of  biography  in  general,  or  the  con^ 
tents  of  the  present  work  in  particular,  might  suggest. 
All  that  I  propose  is,  briefly  to  advert  to  a  few  points 
which  may  seem  to  require  notice. 

The  narrative,  which  I  now  present  to  the  world,  will 
no  doubt  produce  upon  different  classes  of  readers  very 
different  impressions.  Possibly  it  may  carry  a  degree  of 
offence  to  the  feelings  of  some,  to  contemplate  the  very 
humble  scenes  in  which  one,  who  has  since  been  regarded 
with  much  veneration,  was  conversant  throughout  the 
former  years  of  his  life.  This  however  is  a  case  in  which^ 
could  the  sentence  be  divested  of  the  pride,  i  fear,  inhe- 
rent in  it,  we  might  be  tempted  to  apply  the  words — 

Quantum  generi  demas,  virtutibus  addis.* 

But  it  is  more  becoming  to  say,  as  my  father  was  accus- 
tomed  to  do — without  at  all  wishing  to  disparage  external 
distinctions  where  they  existed — that  in  all  these  respects 
he  was  a  man  of  no  pretensions.    Nor  can  any  Christian, 

*  To  depress  my  rank  is  to  exalt  my  character. 


IV  PREFACE. 

apprrriating  his  other  (nialifications,  consistently  regard 
him  the  less  Ofi  tliat  aecount. 

Others  may  view,  not  without  jealously,  a  person  who, 
bv  his  own  shewincr.  was  once  "  far  off"  from  God  and 
from  goodness,  represented  as  eminently  ^M)roughtnigh  ;'* 
distinguished  l)y  the  divine  blessing,  and  by  great  useful- 
ness in  the  church  of  Christ.  The  real  and  well  informed 
Christian,  however,  will  regard  the  mighty  change  with 
far  other  feelings  :  and  to  all  descriptions  of  persons  his 
family  and  friends  would  say,  If  we  "  glory'^  in  our  re- 
vered relative,  it  is  not  in  what  he  was  by  nature,  but  in 
what  he  became  by  divine  grace  :  or,  to  express  the  sen- 
timent in  terms  which  would  have  been  still  more  agreea- 
ble to  his  own  principles  and  feelings^  We  "  glorify  God 
in  him."- 

Some  may  perhaps  object  to  the  ftdl  disclosio'e  that  is 
made  of  those  circumstances  of  his  history  and  character, 
which  always  humbled  him  in  his  own  sight,  and  which 
may  tend  to  abase  him  in  the  view  of  worldly  or  phari- 
saical  persons.  There  remained  however  not  much  of 
this  nature  to  be  added  to  the  confessions  of  "  The  Force 
of  Truth  :'"  his  sup])limental  narrative,  included  in  this 
volume,  was  all  written  in  the  same  unreserved  style  : 
and  it  appeared  to  me  that  it  would  be  unworthy  of  his 
biographer,  as  it  would  certainly  have  been  contrary  to 
his  own  wishes,  to  attempt  any  suppression  of  what  nei- 
ther could  nor  needed  to  be  concealed. 

It  is  more  than  possible  that  the  publication  of  so  de- 
tailed a  story,  conceining  a  clergyman  of  humble  station, 
may  appear  to  many  a  proceeding  altogether  calling  for 
— perhaps  scarcely  admitting  of — apology.  Some  notice 
of  this  ol)icTti()n  will  be  found  in  an  early  part  of  the  work 
itself.  I  shall  only  here  add,  that  I  could  not  but  remem- 
ber that  I  was  called  to  give  to  the  public  an  account  of 


PREFACE,  V 

a  person,  on  whose  works — of  plain  didactic  theology — 
and  those  charged  at  the  lowest  price  at  which  they  could 
be  afforded — that  public  had  not  thought  it  too  much  to 
expend  more  than  Two  Hundred  Thousand  Pounds, 
during  the  author's  own  life- time.* 

On  the  part  of  many  who  bore  a  high  regard  for  my 
father's  character,  some  impatience  has  been  expressed 
for  the  appearance  of  the  present  work.  I  trust  however 
it  will  now  be  seen  that  time  has  not  been  lost  in  bring- 
ing it  forward.  Indeed  I  cannot  but  fear  that  I  may  in- 
cur the  charge,  rather  of  premature  publication  than  of 
unnecessary  delay. 

The  work  itself  will  sufficiently  explain  the  nature  of 
the  materials  from  which  it  has  been  composed.  I  would 
only  therefore  observe,  that,  of  all  the  letters  which  are 
introduced  into  it,  there  is  not  one  of  which  any  copy  had 
been  preserved  by  the  writer.  Their  preservation  has 
depended  on  the  persons  to  whom  they  were  addressed, 
and  it  appears  to  have  been  in  great  part  accidental. 

The  letters  will,  I  trust,  be  judged  a  highly  valuable 
part  of  the  volume  :  and,  as  will  appear  to  the  reader, 
there  arc  many  more  in  reserve,  from  which  a  further 
selection  may  be  given  to  the  public,  if  it  should  be  de- 
sired. With  this  view  I  would  still  earnestly  invite  those 
friends  who  possess  letters  of  my  father's  to  communicate 
to  me,  through  the  medium  of  my  bookseller,!  either  the 
originals,  or  authenticated  copies  of  such  parts  as  may 
not  be  mixed  up  with  private  affairs.  To  those  who  have 
already  complied  with  this  request,  I  beg  leave  here  to 
return  my  sincere  acknowledgments. 

I  find  that  it  may  not  be  superfluous  to  insert  a  caution 

*  See  the  calculation  concerning  his  Commentary  alone,  below, 
]?.  278. 

t  Mr.  Seely,  169,  Fleet  Street,  London. 


VI  PREFACE. 

witli  respect  to  any  new  publication  bearing  my  fathers 
name.  Whatever  is  not  expressly  sanctioned  by  his  fam- 
ily, must  be  considered  as  appearing  contrary  to  their 
wishes. 

1%  6//i,  1822. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.     Including  the  first  sixteen  years  of  his 

LIFE. 
A.  D.  PAGE 

Mr.  Scott's  own  memoir  of  his  life            -         -         -  17 

Plan  of  the  present  work        -         -         -         -         -  1 8 

1747.    His  birth  and  early  education             -         -         .        -  19 

His  eldest  brother          ------  20 

1757  ^ 

to     J.  At  school,  at  Scorton,  in  Yorkshire         -        -        -  21 

1762. J 

A  peculiarity  in  his  early  turn  of  mind     -         -         -  23 

Remarks  on  schools       -         -         ,         -         -         -  25 

1762.    Short  apprenticeship  to  a  surgeon,  at  Alford     -         -  26 

Remarkable  incident  during  his  apprenticeship     -  27 

Reflections 28 

Extracts  from  the  <  Force  of  Truth,'  relative  to  this 

period 29 

Employment  in  the  grazing  business,  with  his  father  33 

CHAPTER  II.     From  his  apprenticeship  to  his  ordination. 
1763  "I 

to     I  Hardships  from  his  sixteenth  to  his  twenty-sixth  year  35 

Some  account  of  other  members  of  his  family       -  35 

His  attempts  to  obtain  orders            -         -         -         -  40 

1772.   His  ordination  by  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  (Sept.  20th)  46 
He  accepts  the  curacies  of  Stoke  Goldington,  and 

Weston  Underwood,  Bucks            -         -         -        -  48 

Reflections  on  his  ordination          -         -         -         -       .  49 

Extracts  from  the  '  Force  of  Truth'           -         -         -  50 

Apology  for  the  preceding  narrative     -         -         -  54 

for  Mr.  S's.  censures  of  himself          -         -  54 

An  incident 57 

His  character  as  displayed  in  letters  of  this  period  5g 


Mil  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTKR  III.  From  his  ordination  to  his  marriage. 

A.  D.  PAGE 

1772.  Settlement  at  Stoke 60 

Family  of  George  Wrighte,  Esq.  of  Gayhurt  -         60 

1773.  Entrance  at  Clare  Hall,  Cambridge  -         •-         -     61 

His  studies 62 

His  paiishes     --------66 

Attention  to  clerical  duties  -         -         ,         -         67 

Death  of  his  sister,  Mrs.  Caborn  -         -         -     70 

Rev.  John  Newton,  curate  of  Olney        -         -         -         71 
Extracts  from  the  '  Force  of  Truth*  -         -        72-75 

1774.  His  marriage,  (Dec.  5th) 76 

His  finances  _         _  •        -         -  78 

His  family  worship,  then  and  in  later  life  -     79 

CHAPTER  IV.  The  great  change  in  his  religious  views. 

1775.  Removal  to  the  curacy  of  Ravenstone  -         -         85 

1^3' ?  Birth  of  his  two  eldest  children       -         -         -         -     87 
1777.  \ 

1775.  Death  of  his  sister,  Mrs.  Gibbons  -  -  -  87 
Great  change  in  his  religious  views  -  -  -  88 
Important  letters  relative  to  this  subject         -         -  91 

1776.  He  devotes  himself  entirely  to  the  work  of  the  minis- 

try              106 

His  sentiments  on  study  and  learning      -         -  -     107 

Doctrinal  views  at  the  close  of  1776     -         -         -  109 

Extemporary  preaching           -         -         -         -  -     114 

CHAPTER  V.  Period  at  Weston  Underw  cod,  till  the  pub- 
lication OF  the  '  Force  of  Truth.' 

1777.  Removal  to  Weston  Underwood  -  -  -  115 
Death  of  his  father  and  mother  -  -  -  115-117 
Renewal  of  intercourse  with  Mr.  Newton  -  -  117 
Practice  of  medicine  among  the  poor  -  -  -  119 
Progress  of  his  religious  inquiries  -  -  -  120 
Ministerial  faithfulness — Bart.  Higgins,  Esq.  -      122 

1778.  Playing  at  cards 123 

1773.    The  theatre -  -      126 

1778.    Interview  with  a  clergyman         .         _         -         -  126 

The  vicar  of  Ravenstone         -         -         -         -         -     127 


CONTENTS,  iX 

^'  ^'  PAGE 

1779  y 

1780.'s    ^i*'th  of  two  sons — Death  of  a  son  and  daughter       129 

1779.    VuhlicdLtion  of  ^  T/ie  Force  of  Truth y*       -.        -         -     130 
CHAPTER  VI.  Letters  belonging  to  the  period  of  the 

PRECEDING  CHAPTER. 

1779.  Letters  on  numerous  deaths  in  his  family,  particularly 

his  infant  son 131 

1780.  On  the  death  of  his  daughter        -         -         .         -  135 
1778,)  On  the  impression  produced  on  his  relations  by  his 
1779.5      change  of  views 137 

Tenderness  of  his  affections 141 

1778  "^ 
to     >  Letters  to  a  relation  by  marriage,  pressing  the  great 

1781.  J        duties  of  religion I45 

CHAPTER  Vn.  From  the  first  proposal  of  the  curacy  of 
Olney,  to  the  close  of  his  ministry  there. 

1780.  Proposal  of  the  curacy  of  Olney  -  -  -  151 
Changes  there  on  Mr.  Newton's  removal  152-158 
Small-pox  at  Olney  and  Ravenstone     -        -        -         152 

Gaol  fever  at  Stoke 157 

Remarkable  case  -         -        -        -         -         -         157 

1781.  Removal  to  Olney  - I59 

Week-day  lectures       -        -        -         -         -        -         leo 

Lady  Austen — Cowper,  the  poet    -         .         _      162-163 
Question  of  infant  baptism  -        -        -        -         166 

Irregular  ministrations  -         -         -        -         -        -     166 

Extract  on  itinerant  preaching     -        -         -         -         170 

Rev.  Dr.  Carey,  of  Serampore         -        -        -        -     172 

1776.  Dissenters  at  Northampton  -         -        -         -         173 

1783.  Severe  illness  in   Shropshire — Letter  from  Rev.  J, 

Mayor     -        -        -         -^-        -        -        -         1 74 

1784  > 

1785  \     '^^^'^^^S^^^^S  ^^^on — Discourse  on  Refientance       176 

CHAPTER  VIII.  Correspondence  during  the  period  of  the 

PRECEDING    chapter. 

Parish  of  Olney      -         -         -         -         -         _        -     178 
1779"] 

to     >  Letters  of  Rev.  J.  Newton    -  -        -        .179 

I782.J 

B 


X  OOXTKKTS. 

A.  1,.  »*^^* 

LficH-slcr 181—186 

I7H1.    Situation  at  OIncy 1^^ 

1782.  Happy  slate  of  his  mind      -----  191 

1783.  Trcatmeni  (tf  nlalioiis  not  religious         -         -         -      194 

1783^ 

to      ^Letters  to  the  Rev.  J.  Mayor  -  -  -       196-207 

1785J 

Anlinomianism        ..-.---      199 

Letters    to    the  Rev.    G.    More — His    religious 

views  - 201-204 

CHAPTER  IX.  From  the  close  of  his  ministry  at  Olney,  to 

THE   COMMENCEMENT  OF  HIS    COMMENTARY. 

Situation  at  Olney 210 

Charge  of  scolding  in  the  pulpit  -         -  211-229 

Ministerial  discouragement    -         -         -         -         -  212 

1785.  Situation  at  the  Lock  proposed    -         -         -         -  213 
On  giving  and  receiving  advice      -         -         -         -  214 

Removal  to  London 217 

The  Lock 218 

1790.    Lectureships  in  Bread  Street  and  Lothbury         -         220 

His  Sunday  labours 222 

Finances     219-225 

Charge  of  Arminianism 226 

1786.  Sermo7i  on  Election  and  Final  Perseverance  -  227 

Society  in  London 227-235 

Trials  at  the  Lock        -         -         -         -         -         -         229 

Usefulness  in  the  Hospital       _         .         _         _         -     230 

17K7.     Pavi/ihlrt  an  the  fatal  co}hst'(/iie?iC('s  of  Pent  ale  Prosti- 

tufion  -  - 232 

Institution  of  the  Lock  Asylum  _         _         .  032 

1786,)  \'isits  to  Buckinghamshire,  and  Scrmoji  on  Growth 

1787. 5        i"   ('fact-  ----__.  234 

1786.  Correspondence  during  this  period           _         _         _  236 
With  liis  sisters — Funeral  Sermon  for  Dr.  Conyers  237 

With  the  Rev.  Dr.  Ryland 239 

^^'ilh  a  late  parishionei*  in  Buckinghamshire       -  243 

J787.    With  a  friend  in  Wales,  on  Welch  Bibles       -         -     248 

CHAPILR    X. His  COMMENTARY  ON    THE    SCRIPTURES DEATH 

OF   MRS.   SCOTT. 

1787.  The  work  proposed  and  undertaken     -         -         -         255 


CONTENTS.  XI 

A.  n.  •  PAGE 

1788.    Embarrassment  and  failure  of  the  proprietor       -         256 
1792.    Losses  of  the  author 259-267 

1800  "J 

to     [.Improvements  of  the  work  in  two  new  editions       -     261 
1811. J 

Copy-right  disposed  of  to  the  present  proprietors         263 

llll'l    Suit  in  Chancery 263-275 

1  o  1  o.  \ 

1788  ^ 

to     V First  publication  of  the  work  _         _        -         -     264 

1792. J 

Letters  relative  to  it 256 

1791.  Discourse  on  the  death  of  John  Thornton,  Esq.  -  266 
Subsequent  editions  of  the  Commentary  -  -  269-273 
Its  progress  in  America       -         ~         -         -  273-278 

1790.  Death  of  Mrs.  Scott  ---..-  280 
Mr.  Scott's  second  marriage  -  -  -  -  280 
Letters 281 

CHAPTER  XL — Additional  particulars  from   the   time  of 

FINISHING  HIS    COMMENTARY  TO  THE   EVE   OF  HIS    REMOVAL    FROM 
LONDON. 

Publications— 

1792.  On   Civil   Government  and  the  Duties  of  Subjects         287 

1793.  The  Rights  of  God 287 

1796.    Answer  to  Paine* s  Age  of  Reason    -  -         -     287-293 

^''^^'?    Letters  to  Dr.  Ryland— Political  Sentiments     -         288 
1793.3 

1793.  Dr.  Carey,  the  Baptist  Missionary  -  -  -  293 
Further  Publications— 

1793,  }     Essays  on  the  most  important  Subjects  in  Religion       294 

I     '  ^     JVotes  on  Bunyan's  Pilgrim       -         -         -         -  295 

1795.5 

1796.  Volume  of  Sermons  ------     295 

1797.  Warrant  and  J^ature  of  Faith       .         -  -  -  296 
1802.    Four  Sermons         _------     295 

1798  'j 
to     I  Lectures  connected  with  the  state  of  the  times  296 

1802. J 

1798.  Observations  on  the  signs  and  duties  of  the  times       296 
1802.  Sermon  at  the  close  of  the  Lectures    -  -  -     296 


Xii  CONTENTS. 


A.  D.  •  PAGE 

179  >  1 

tu      y      J'uat  Sermons     -------  296 

1795. J 

I79H.           Thaukairiving  Sermoii          -----  296 

1801.          St  rmon  bcfoi-e  the  Church  Missionary  Society  297 

1800.    Origin  of  that  Society 297 

Commemoration  of  Mr.  Scott,  at  the  anniversary  in 

1821               298 

Works  projected,  but  never  executed           -         -  300 

1796.    Voyages  between  London  and  Margate            -         -  300 

CHAPTER  XII. — Lktters   belonging  to  the   period   of  the 

TREGEDING    CHAPTER. 


Letters  to  his  friend  in  Northumberland       -         -     30: 


o 


07 


1794,> 
1795.3 

'  V    to  his  son  at  college 

on  companies  and  studies      -         -         -  307 

on  joining  religious  societies  in  college  309 

on  the  study  of  divine  truth            -         -  312 

on  the  love  of  God             -         -         -  -     315 

to  a  lady  on  '  Hart's  Hymns*          -         -  317 

on  habits  and  the  employment  of  time  -     320 

1797.     on  the  Rev.  Henry  Venn         -         -         _  322 

to  Mrs.  Webster  on  the  death  of  her  daugh- 
ters        322 

on  Mr.  Wilberforce's  *  Practical  View*  -     324 

on  the  ministry,  and  qualifications  for  it  324 

1798.     on  academical  distinctions         -         -  .     327 

on  education 329 

on  his  own  religious  sentiments         -  -     330 

1 80 1 .     on  his  views  during  a  very  dangerous  illness  33 1 

Observations  on  the  last  letter           -         -        -  334 

CHAP  PER  XIII.— From  his  accepting  the   living   of  aston 

TO    THE    FINAL   DISPOSAL    OF    HIS    COMMENTARY. 

Concluding  transactions  at  the  Lock            -         -  339 

1801.    The  Living  of  Aston  Sdnford            .         .         -  340 

Determination  to  cjuit  the  Lock            .        -         -  342 

Erection  of  a  parsonage-house  at  Aston          -  -     343 
Elizabeth  Moulder— filial  duty  and  charity  to  the 

poor  remunerated           -         .         -         -         .  334, 


GONTENTS.  xiii 
^•^*                                                                                                                                                PAGE 

Review  of  his  own  conduct  at  the  Lock        -        -  354 

1803.    Removal  to  Aston 374 

Conclusion  of  his  own  Narrative        -        .        ,  334 

1806  "J 

to     t  Visits  to  Hull,  York,  Leeds        -        -        -        -  394 
1811. J 

1309  "j 

to     y to  Bristol,  and  to  Portsmouth        .        -        -  305 

1313.J 

1813.             to  Cambridge               -         -        -         -        -  315 
Publications — 

1803.  Funeral  Sermon  for  the  Rev.  J.  JVeivell         -         -  351 

1804.  Sermon  before  the  London  Missionary  Society  325 
1808.  Funeral  Sermon  for  the  Re-v.  T.  Penty cross  -  325 
IftlO.          Sermon  on  the  Death  of  the  Missionary^  Barneth  325 

1810.  Sermon  for  the  Jenus*  Society         -         -         .         -  353 

1811.  Address  to  Missionaries  proceeding  to  Africa     -  352 

1812.  Sermon  for  the  London  Female  Penitentiary  352 
1811.  Remarks  on  the  Refutation  of  Calvinism  -  335 
1805  1 

to      >His  collected  works  335 
1808.J 

1807"! 

to     J>Tuition  of  Misssionaries  335 
1814.J 

Study  of  Arabic -  354 

1813.  His  views  with  respect  to  the  instruction  of  Missiona- 

ries               355 

His  zeal  for  religious  and  benevolent  Institutions    -  358 

Effects  of  his  ministry  at  Aston             -        _         .  36q 

Chapelry  of  Gawcott             -             -         -         .  351 

CHAPTER  XIV, — Letters  belonging  to  the  period  of  the 

PRECEDING  CHAPTER.  ' 

I.  On  the  work  of  the  Ministry         -         -         -  353 

II.  On  provision  for  families,  and  education  of  child- 
ren, particularly  those  of  Ministers             -         -  371 

III.  On  the  death  of  children  and  near  friends  375 

IV.  Miscellaneous 335 

CHAPTER  XV. — From  the  final  disposal  of  his  commentary 

TILL  his  last  illness. 

1813.    Unexpected  difficulty  in  his  finances            -        -  388 

Extraordinary  relief         -        -         -        •        -  391 


xiv  UOiNTENTS. 

A.  D.  ?AGE 

18  11.  Work  on  the  question  betioeen  Jeiva  and  Christians  396 
St-rtnona  on  the  Peace — The  Slave  'Pvade  -  -  399 
Death  of  his  sister,  Mrs.  Burgess  -  -  -  40  1 
of  Henry  Thornton,  Esq.               _         .         -  403 

1815.     Sermon  on  the  death  of  Lady  Alary  Fitzgerald     -  405 

Index  and  Concordance  to  his  Bible             -         -  407 

1815"^ 

to      ^Letters  on  Ecclesiastical  Establishments              -  408 
l«17j 

1815.  On  fluctuations  in  a  congre.^ation  -  -  -  409 
Second  edition  of  his  ^  Remarks^*          .          _          -  412 

1816.  Trials. — On  temptation  .  _  .  -  412 
On  concern  for  spiritual  welfare  of  children  -  413 
On  the  death  of  an  infant  grandchild  -  -  417 
On  cultivating  cheerfulness  .  -  .  -  420 
Letter  to  his  sister  Mrs.  Webster       -         -         -  4:^2 

1817.  History  of  the  Synod  of  Dort  _  .  _  .  425 
Sermon  on  the  death  of  the  Princess  Charlotte         -  425 

1818.  Preparation  of  a  stereotype  edition  of  his  Bible  426 
Letters  on  submission  to  God  .  _  -  -  428 
His  state  at  that  period  _  -  -  -  431 
On  Dr.  Chalmer's  farewell  Address  .  _  -  423 
Occurrences  in  a  visit  to  Aston  _  -  -  433 
Last  letter  to  Mrs.  Webster         -         _         .         -  463 

1819.  Letter  to  his  youngest  son  -----  437 
On  the  recent  ecclesiastical  acts  and  proceedings  404 
Death  of  his  late  wife's  sister       -         -         -         -  442 

1820.    of  King  George  HL             -         _         _         _  443 

of  Mr.  Scott*s  brother             -         -         .  443 

of  his  sister,  Mrs.  Webster         -         .         -  444 

His  state  in  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1820     -  446 
Last  letter  to  the  Rev.  T.  Webster             -         -  448 
On  the  exertions  for  the  spiritual  improvement  of  sea- 
men            -----_--  449 

On  Cruden's  Concordance         -         -         -         -  451 

On  his  own  Index  and  Concordance       -         -         -  451 

1H*21.    Last  letter  to  Rev.  Dr.  Ryland              -         -         -  452 

to  his  eldest  son             .         _         -         -  454 

to  Mr.  Burgess  on  the  death  of  a  daughter  455 

to  his  friend  in  Northumberland         -  456 

1818.    Letters  to  a  niece  after  the  death  of  her  mother  458 


CONTENTS.  XV 

A.  D.  PAGE 

1819.   Letter  to  a  Clergyman  on  private  religious  meetings  461 

— ■ on  prayer  to  the  holy  Spirit     465 

1821.    Last  Letter  to  Rev.  J.  Mayor         -         -        -        -         468 

CHAPTER  XVI. — His  last  illness  and  deAth. 

Introductory  observations  from  the  Rev.  D.  Wilson's 

Funeral  Sermons 471 

Mar.    1 

■     (  Extracts  of  letters  written  from  Aston  during  his 

April.  J       ^"^^^^         - 474 

His  death  ----_._  488 

His  funeral 494 

Impressions  left  on  the  minds  of  the  family         -  496 

On  the  occasional  depression  and  gloom  experienced 

by  Mr.  Scott         -         -         -     .     -         -         .     _  493 

Memorandums  made  during  his  illness  -  503 

His  fears  which  were  never  realized         -  ^  582 

CHAPTER  XVII. — His  character — habits — sentiments  on 

education. 
His  character  as  delineated  by  Mr.  Wilson  -         531 

Additional  observations  .         -         .         _  545 

On  his  intellectual  endowments  -         _         _         545 

On  his  spirit  and  tempei-^ — particular  deadness  to  the 

world _  549 

On  his  habits  _         _         _         _  _         _        ^^^ 

Letters  from  John  Pearson,  Esq.  -  -         -      561 

Letter  from  William  Wilberforce,  Esq.         -         -         553 
Mr.  Scott's  Sentiments  ou  Education         -         -  55.7 

CHAPTER  XVIII. — His  works. — his  theology. — conclu- 
sion. 
I.  The  Force  of  Truth,  and  the  Commentary         -       530 
Principles  of  interpretation  adopted  in  the  latter 

work 582 

II    Theological  Treatises         -        _        -         _  53^ 

III.  Occasional  Sermons  -         -        _        _         595 

IV.  Works  against  infidelity  and  disaffection  599 

V.  Other  controversial  works  -  -  -  goo 
His  Theology  -  .  ,  .  gOg 
Conclusion             -             -             -           _           -          613 

Memoir  of  his  eldest  daughter  -        -  -      621 


THE  LIFE 


OF  THE 


REV.  THOMAS  SCOTT,  D.  D. 


CHAPTER  L 

INCLUDING  THE  FIRST  SIXTEEN  YEARS  OF  HIS  LIFE, 

A  HE  public  are  already  apprized,  that  my  honoured  fa- 
ther left  behind  him  a  written  memoir  of  his  own  life^ 
brought  down  to  the  year  1812.  The  first  sentence  of 
this  manuscript  will  explain,  at  once,  his  reason  for  so 
doing,  and  the  nature  of  the  composition.  "  As  there 
can  be  little  doubt,''  he  says,  "  that,  after  my  decease, 
something  in  the  way  of  memoir,  or  narrative,  will  be 
published  concerning  me,  to  prevent  misinformation,  and 
to  supply  a  few  authentic  materials,  I  purpose,  in  the  fol- 
lowing sheets,  to  state  such  facts  as  seem  of  sufficient  im- 
portance, leaving  it,  in  general,  to  others  to  make  their 
observations  upon  them.'' 

Hence  it  would  seem,  that  not  so  much  to  write  for  the 
public  eye,  as  to  furnish  "  authentic  materials"  to  those 
who  might  be  induced  to  do  so,  was  the  object  which  he 

C 


18  EARLY    LIFE.  [ChAP.   1. 

proposed  to  himself'.  Accordingly  1  confess,  that,  on 
my  iirst  inspection  of  the  narrative,  it  appeared  to  me, 
tliough  in  all  parts  gratifying  to  the  writer's  imniediate 
friends,  yet  in  many  instances  more  minute  and  familiar 
than  might  he  suitable  for  a  vvork^  to  be  submitted  to  the 
world  at  large.  But,  on  more  deliberately  considering 
the  subject,  and  reflecting  on  what  the  public  have,  in 
other  instances,  not  only  tolerated,  but  approved,  I  have 
so  far  altered  my  judgment,  as  to  determine  to  keep  back 
very  little  indeed  of  what  my  father  has  written  ;  and,  in 
committing  it  to  the  press,  to  subject  it  only  to  that  verbal, 
or  otherwise  slight  correction,  which  an  unre vised  com- 
position naturally  requires. 

It  further  appears,  from  the  sentence  which  has  been 
recited,  that,  contenting  himself  with  recording  leading 
fads,  the  writer  left  it  to  others  to  make  the  proper  re- 
flections upon  them. 

On  the  whole,  therefore,  in  compliance  with  what 
would.  I  hope,  have  obtained  his  own  sanction,  and  what, 
I  feel  some  confidence,  will  meet  the  wishes  of  the  reli- 
gious public,  I  shall  give  the  bulk  of  my  fathers  manu- 
script in  his  own  words ;  interweave  with  it  pretty  co- 
pious selections  from  his  correspondence,  illustrative  of 
its  contents ;  ofl'er  such  reflections  as  the  several  occasions 
may  seem  to  demand ;  and,  after  we  shall  have  lost  the  help  of 
tliat  original  document,  detail  the  history  of  the  remain- 
ing pei-iod  of  his  life,  as  much  upon  the  same  plan  as  the 
means  in  my  power  shall  enable  me  to  do.  I  would  en- 
deavour every  where  to  keep  in  view  the  great  object 
for  which  he  lived,  and  to  which,  on  his  dying  bed, 
more  entirely,  if  possible,  than  before,  he  approved 
of  having  devoted  his  life  ;  and  would  humbly  desire,  that 
the  present  work  may  still  conduce  to  the  same  design: — 
that  here,  as  well  as  in  the  writings  more  exclusively  his 


1747 1763.]  EARLY  LIFE.  19 

©wn,  he  may  "  yet  speak''  to  the  glory  of  God^  and  to 
the  highest  good  of  mankind. 

My  father  thus  records  the  time  and  place  of  his  birth. 
''  I  was  born  on  the  fourth  of  February,  1746-7,  an- 
swering, since  the  change  of  the  style,  and  the  beginning 
of  another  century,  to  February  16,  1747.  A  small 
farm-house  at  Braytoft,  in  Lincolnshire,  was  the  place 
of  my  birth.  Braytoft  is  five  miles  from  Spilsby,  and 
about  six  from  Skegness, — ^where  a  well-known  bathing 
place  has  since  been  built ;  but  where,  in  my  remem- 
brance, only  one  solitary  public  house  existed,  on  the  sea- 
shore. 

"  My  father,  John  Scott,  was  a  grazier,  a  man  of  a 
small  and  feeble  body,  but  of  uncommon  energy  of  mind, 
and  vigour  of  intellect ;  by  which  he  surmounted,  in  no 
common  degree,  the  almost  total  want  of  education.  His 
circumstances  were  very  narrow,  and  for  many  years  he 
struggled  with  urgent  difficulties.  But  he  rose  above 
them ;  and,  though  never  affluent,  his  credit  was  sup- 
ported, and  he  lived  in  more  comfortable  circumstances 
to  the  age  of  seventy-six  years.  He  had  thirteen  child- 
ren, ten  of  whom  lived  to  maturity  :  and  my  eldest  bro- 
ther was  twenty-three  years  older  than  my  youngest 

sister. 

"  Concerning  my  father's  family  and  ancestors,  I  know 
scarcely  any  thing.  My  mother's  maiden  name  was 
Wayet,  and  she  was  descended  of  a  family  well  known 
and  respected,  for  a  long  time  back,  at  Boston.  From 
her  method  of  ruling  and  teaching  her  large  family,  when 
very  young,  I  derived  many  of  my  best  maxims  concern- 
ing the  education  of  my  own  children. 

"  Having,  principally  by  her,  been  taught  to  read 
fluently,  and  to  spell  accurately,  I  learned  the  first  ele- 


20  EARLY  LIFE.  [ChAP.  L 

meiits  of  Latin  at  Bur^h.  two  miles  off,  at  a  school  to 
which,  for  a  while,  I  went  as  a  day-scholar.  But  at  eight 
years  of  age  I  was  sent  to  Bennington,  a  village  about 
four  miles  iioilh  of  Boston,  where  my  father  had  a  graz- 
ing farm,  (on  which  my  elder  brother  and  sister  resided, 
with  my  father's  sister,)  that  I  might  attend  a  school  in 
the  parish  kept  by  a  clergymair.  Here  I  continued  about 
two  years;  and,  in  addition  to  writing,  and  the  first  ru- 
diments of  arithmetic,  I  learned  a  little  Latin  at  my  mas- 
ter's desire,  who  thought  he  saw  in  me  a  turn  for  that 
kind  of  learning.  He  had,  as  I  recollect,  no  other  Latin 
scholar. — Exclusive  of  some  instances  of  my  early  profi- 
ciency in  several  kinds  of  vice,  and  the  severe  correc- 
tions to  which  this  exposed  me,  I  remember  little  of  these 
two  years,  except  a  ])reservation  from  drowning,  in  a  si- 
tuation into  which  I  had  rushed  in  defiance  of  warning. 
My  escape  was  considered  as  wonderful,  for  none  of  the 
spectators  was  al)le  to  give  me  any  aid. 

'*  Towards  the  close  of  these  years  mv  eldest  brother 
died  on  board  a  man  of  war,  I  think  at  Portsmouth.  My 
fiither,  amidst  his  difficulties,  greatly  desired  to  have  a 
son  educated  for  one  of  the  learned  professions  ;  and  his 
eldest  son,  shewing  a  talent  for  learning,  was  sent  to  school, 
at  Scorton,  in  Yorkshire,  (of  which  place  more  will  be 
spoken  hereafter,)  and,  when  he  had  acquired  a  compe- 
tent stock  of  Latin  and  Greek,  was  bound  apprentice  to 
a  surgeon  and  apothecary  at  Burgh.  His  master  dying  dur- 
ingthe  term  of  his  apprenticeship,  left  him  his  indentures, 
and,  I  believe,  a  small  legacy.  He  then  went  to  Lynn,  in 
Norfolk,  where  he  enjoyed  far  greater  advantages  for 
acquiring  professional  knowledge  ;  and,  having  attended 
the  hospitals  in  London  for  some  time,  he  was  induced,  on 
the  breaking  out  of  war  with  France,  to  enter  the  navy  as 
surgeon's  mate,  determined  to  push  his  fortune  in  that 


1747—1763.]  EARLY  LIFE.  Zl 

line.  His  advance  from  the  lowest  rank  to  that  next  to 
a  surgeon,  to  which,  if  he  had  lived,  he  would  certainly 
have  been  very  soon  promoted,  was  rapid ;  and  the  most 
sanguine  expectations  were  formed.  But  a  vessel  of  war 
arriving  from  abroad,  with  a  malignant  disease  among  the 
crew,  he,  being,  as  it  always  appeared,  a  stranger  to  fear, 
and  enthusiastically  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  professional 
knowledge,  requested  to  be  one  of  those  who  were  sent 
on  board  of  her.  There  he  soon  caught  the  disease, 
which  terminated  at  once  his  prospects  and  his  life,  when 
he  was  about  twenty-four  years  of  age. 

^^  My  father  felt  this  event  as,  in  every  way,  a  most 
heavy  affliction.  He  determined,  however,  if  possible, 
to  have  a  son  in  the  medical  profession ;  and,  as  I  was 
thought  of  the  proper  age,  and  seemed  capable  of  readi- 
ly  learning  Latin,  I  was  selected.  From  this  time 
my  attention  was  almost  entirely  directed  to  that  language; 
and,  at  different  places,  I  gat  a  superficial  knowledge  of 
several  books  generally  read  at  schools  :  which  gave  the 
appearance  of  far  greater  proficiency  than  I  had  actually 
made. 

^^  At  ten  years  of  age  I  was  sent  to  Scorton,  where  my 
brother  had  been  before  me ;  and  there  I  remained  five 
years,  without  returning  home,  or  seeing  any  relation  or 
acquaintance. — Scorton  is  a  hamlet  of  the  parish  of  Bol- 
ton, where  the  celebrated  Henry  Jenkins,  who  lived  one 
hundred  and  sixty-nine  years,  lies  buried  ;  and  there  is  a 
monumental  inscription  for  him  in  the  parish  church. 
This  was  one  hundred  and  forty  miles  from  Braytoft ; 
five  miles  from  Richmond,  and  two  from  Catterick,  in 
Yorkshire ;  the  river  Swale  running  between.  There 
were  several  turnpike  roads  in  the  neighbourhood,  and 
one  through  the  village,  but  I  do  not  remember  that  I 
ever  saw  or  heard  a  stage  coach !— The  whole  expence  of 


2)i  KARLY  LIFK.  [ChaP.  I. 

bonrdiiig  and  dothing  aiuoiniied  to  14/.  a  year  ;  two 
guineas  were  paid  for  toachiug,  books  being  found  ;  there 
were  some  extra-eharges  for  wiiting,  aritbnieti(',  and 
French  ;  and  some  expcnces  for  medical  assistance  :  but  I 
have  often  heard  my  father  mention,  that  I  cost  him  17/. 
a  year,  for  five  years.  I  think  he  must  have  underrated 
the  sum,  but  I  am  fully  satisfied  that  100/.  more  than 
covered  all  the  charges  of  the  five  yeai*s  ;  and  this  was  all 
the  cost  of  my  education.  Yet  I  wanted  for  nothing.  1 
had  plenty  of  wholesome  food,  and,  though  my  clothing 
was  rather  coarse,  I  was  as  tenderly  taken  care  of  when 
sick,  (which  was  frequently  the  case,)  by  the  widow,  who 
kept  the  boarding-house,  and  her  daughter,  as  I  could 
have  been  at  home. — The  effect,  however,  of  such  long 
separations  from  parents,  brothers,  and  sisters,  and  other 
near  relations,  is  far  from  favourable  to  the  forming  of  the 
moral  and  social  character,  in  future  life. 

••The  school  at  Scorton  is,  I  believe,  well  endowed  : 
and  it  was  at  that  time  of  considerable  note.  During  the 
the  whole  of  my  continuance  there,  there  were  above 
eighty  scholars  ;  several  from  remote  places  :  and  a  few 
of  superior  station  in  society,  whose  names  I  have  since 
met  with  as  occupying  rather  conspicuous  situations.  The 
Rev.  John  Noble  was  head-master.  He  had  been,  in 
his  day,  indisputably  an  able  teacher  of  the  learned  lan- 
guages :  but  at  this  time  he  was  old  and  lethargic  ;  and, 
though  still  assiduous,  was  most  grossly  imposed  upon  by 
the  boys,  and  by  no  one  more  than  myself. 

"  When  I  arrived  at  Scorton,  1  was  asked  what  Latin 
hooks  I  had  read  ;  and  my  answer  induced  the  usher  to 
overrate  my  proficiency,  and  to  place  me  in  a  class  much 
beyond  my  s\iperficial  attainments.  This,  however,  stim- 
ulated me  to  close  application  :  and  it  was  not  very  long 
before  I  overtook  my  class-mates,  and  with  ease  accompa- 


1747-— 1763.]  EARLY    LIFE.  23 

nied  them.  Had  I  then  been  again  pushed  forward,  I  might 
have  been  excited  to  persevering  diligence :  but,  as  I  could 
appear  with  tolerable  credit  without  much  application ; 
partly  actual  proficiency,  and  partly  by  imposing  on  Mr. 
Noble,  under  whose  care  I  now^  came  ;  my  love  of  play,  and 
my  scarcity  of  money  for  self-indulgent  expences,  induced 
me  to  divide  a  great  proportion  of  my  time  between  diver- 
sion and  helping  other  boys  in  their  exercises,  for  a  very 
scanty  remuneration,  which  I  lost  in  gaming,   or  squan- 
dered in  gratifying  my  appetite. — Still,  however,  I  made 
considerable  progress,  and  should  have  been  at  the  head 
of  the  school^  had  I  continued  in  it  another  year.     But 
one  thing  is  remarkable,  considering  what  has  since  taken 
place,  that,  while  I  could  translate  Latin  into  English,  or 
English  into  Latin,  perhaps  more  readily  and  correctly 
than  any  other  boy  in  the  school^  I  never  could  compose 
themes.     I  absolutely  seemed  to  have  no  ideas^  when  set 
to  work  of  this  kind,  either  then  or  for  some  years  after 
wards ;  and  was  even  greatly  at  a  loss  to  write  a  common 
letter. — As  for  verses,  I  never  wrote  any  except  nonsense- 
verses,  of  one  kind  or  other ;  which  has  perhaps  been  the 
case  also  of  many  more  prolific  versifiers.     God  had  not 
made  me  a  poet,  and  I  am  very  thankful  that  I  never  at 
tempted  to  make  myself  one." 

In  addition  to  what  my  father  has  here  stated,  I  think 
it  sufliciently  curious  to  be  inserted  in  the  history  of  one 
who  lived  to  compose  so  many  large  volumes,  that  I  have 
often  heard  him  remark,  that,  in  his  early  days,  he  look- 
ed upon  few  things  with  so  much  surprise,  as  upon  great 
books  :  he  felt  utterly  at  a  loss  to  conceive,  how  they  had 
ever  been  produced.  For  the  encouragement,  also,  of 
industry  and  perseverance,  I  would  venture  to  express  an 
opinion,  which  facts,  I  think,  have  suggested  to  me, — 
that  to  find  composition  a  difficult  task  is  rather  a  prom- 


24  EARLY    LIFE.  [CnAP.   I. 

jsing  svmpLoni  m  )oung  prisons,  than  the  contrary.  Pre- 
cocity in  writing  is  very  often  no  other  than  the  art  of 
writing  ^*  without  ideas  :"  while  they,  who  cannot  write 
till  they  have  thought,  are  more  likely,  in  the  event,  to 
store  their  coinj)Ositions  with  valuable  matter. 

''  During  these  five  years,"  my  father  proceeds,  ^'  I 
experienced,  as  I  suppose  most  young  persons  do,  several 
remark.al)le  preservations  in  perilous  circumstances,  gen- 
erally such  as  my  violent  and  eager  spirit  pushed  me  into  ; 
and  I  also  recovered  from  some  very  dangerous  fevers. 
These  things  ought  to  be  remembered  by  me  with  lively 
gratitude,  (especially  as  I  then  scarcely  ever  thought  of 
God;)  but  they  are  not  so  peculiar  as  to  deserve  pub- 
lic notice.  Perhaps  one  exception  may  be  admitted. 
Sitting  by  the  fire-side  reading,  I  affronted,  by  no  great 
offence,  a  school-fellow  of  as  violent  passions  as  myself  : 
when,  without  my  being  at  all  aware  of  his  design,  he 
seized  a  large  poker,  and  aimed  a  blow'  at  my  head,  w  hich 
must  have  proved  fatal,  had  not  its  force  been  broken  by 
an  intervening  object.  As  it  was,  it  inflicted  a  severe 
wound,  which  left  a  bald  place  on  the  top  of  my  head 
ever  after. 

"My  own  conduct,  at  this  period,  was  as  immoral  as 
want  of  money,  pride,  and  fear  of  temporal  consequences 
and  a  natural  bash  fulness,  would  admit  it  to  be  ;  except 
that  in  one  thing  I  retained  a  sort  of  habit  of  my  family, 
and  never  learned  to  swear,  or  to  take  the  name  of  God  in 
vain,  unless  sometimes  when  provoked  to  violent  passion. 
There  was  no  fear  of  God  hffore  my  eyes  ;  no  restraint 
from  the  thought  of  any  relations  watching  over  and  re- 
proving my  conduct ;  no  want  of  most  vile  examples  and 
prompters  ;  and  little  fear  of  detection  by  the  master.  In 
one  instance,  however,  this  latter  confidence  ftiiled  me, 
and  I  was  put  to  shame  in  the  face  of  the  whole  school  for 


1747 1763.]  EARLY    LIFE.  25 

robbing  an  orchard  ;  and  my  disgrace  was  proclaimed  in 
the  neighbourhood :  which  I  mention^  to  shew  that  the 
master^  though  liable  to  gross  imposition^  decidedly  oppo- 
sed immorality  whenever  it  was  detected. 

''  I  cannot  quit  the  present  subject,  without  observing 
the  dire  evils  attending  large  public  schools,  where  the 
boys  are,    for  a   very  great  part  of  their  time,    from 
under  the  eye   of  the  master,    however  vigilant ;    and 
at  a  distance  from  parents  and  relations,  and  all  whose 
presence  would  impose  restraint  upon  them.     Thus  they 
are,  in  great  measure,  left  to  devise  and  practice  wicked- 
edness  together  :   they    embolden  one  another  to  break 
through  the  defence  of  natural  modesty  :   they  teach  their 
juniors  the    vicious   practices  which   they  have  learned 
from  their  seniors :  they  bestow  pains  to  corrupt  each 
other's  principles  :  they  often  procure  the  vilest  publi- 
cations :   and,  by  the  help  of  indexes,  and  other  means, 
they  sometimes  become  better  acquainted  with  the  most 
indecent  passages  of  the  classic  authors,  than  with  their 
daily  lessons.     The  most  clever,  daring,  and  wicked  of 
the  elder  boys  is  the  hero  for  the  time  being,  whom  all, 
that  are  near  enough  to  him,  envy,  imitate,  and  emulate. 
When  he  leaves  the  school,  his  most  successful  copyist 
takes  his  place ;  and  the  same  scene  is  re-acted  again  and 
again.     Those  who  have  money  purchase  the  company  of 
such  as  are  witty  and  entertaining  :  and  not  unfrequently 
they  contract  unsuspected  habits  of  intemperance  and  li- 
centiousness.— Something  may  indeed  be  done,  in  many 
cases,  to  counteract  these  evils  :   but  they  are,  in  a  great 
degree,  inseparable  from  the  system,  and  are  very  inade- 
quately counterbalanced  by  superior  advantages  for  the 
acquisition  of  classical  learning. 

"  On  my  return  from  Scorton,  in  June  1762, 1  spent 
some  weeks  in  visiting  relations  and  acquaintance  :  during 

D 


26  tATiLY  LiFh.  Chap.  1. 

which  time  it  was  a  matter  of  deliberation  whether  I 
should  not  return  to  Scorton  for  another  year.  This  I 
earnestly  desired :  for  I  had  now  no  books  for  study  or 
amusement.  Some  of  my  school-fellows  also  were  about 
to  enter  at  the  University  ;  and  they  excited  in  me  the 
desire  of  doing  the  same  : — ^uhich  I  fondly  hoped^  after 
another  year,  might  be  accomplished ;  and  which  I  vast- 
ly preferred  to  an  apprenticeship.  What,  however,  was 
deemed  the  more  frugal  plan,  and  what  most  accorded 
to  my  father's  previous  intention,  was  adopted  :  aud,  iu 
September  of  that  year,  I  was  bound  apprentice  to  a  sur- 
geon and  apothecary  at  Alford,  about  eight  miles  north 
of  Bray  toft.  The  person,  with  whom  I  was  placed,  was 
considered  as  very  skilful,  and  had  extensive  practice  ; 
and  the  situation  was  thought  very  advanuigeous  :  but 
he  was  in  all  respects  unprindpltd^  and,  1  am  of  opi- 
nion, was  an  infidel. 

'^  In  this  place  my  habit  of  attending  church,  on  the 
Lord's  day,  was  first  interrupted :  for,  on  whatever 
other  days  I  might  have  little  to  do,  1  was  almost  uni- 
formly employed  on  Sundays,  from  morning  till  even- 
ing.-^ 

*•  Here,  however,  I  might  have  continued,  and  have 
accpiircd  professional  knowledge  ;  and,  I  doubt  not, 
should  have  met  with  adequate  encouragement,  in  that 
respect,  had  1  behaved  well,  and  rendered  myself  useful. 
But  my  master  was  a  widower,  and  was  seldom  at  home 
except  when  business  required  it :  so  that  my  leisure 

*  Medical  men  are  too  apt  to  consider  their  professional  en- 
gagements as  excusing  them  from  attendance  on  public  worship. 
How  much  may  be  done,  by  proper  arrangement,  to  avoid  this 
may  be  judged  from  the  fact,  ihat  the  extensive  practice  of  the 
late  Mr.  Hey,  of  Leeds,  seldom  prevented  his  resorting  to  church 
twice  on  the  Sunday. — See  his  life  by  John  Pearson,  Esc|. 


1747 1763.]  EARLY    LIFE.  W 

time  was  spent  with  servants,  and  the  most  improper  com- 
panions.    As  to  the  things  which  I  was  required  to  do, 
no  fault  was  found :  but,  in  other  respects,  I  behaved 
very  ill,  and  gave  my  master  just  cause  of  complaint,  and, 
at  least,  a  plausible  reason  for  dismissing  me.     This  he 
accordingly  did ;  and  at  the  end  of  two  months,  I  return- 
ed home  in  deep  disgrace. — ^Thus  my  father's  favourite 
plan  was  disappointed,  through  my  misconduct ;  a  family, 
respected  for  morality,  was  dishonoured  ;  and  I  was  left  to 
encounter  a  degree  of  displeasure,  and  mortifications  re- 
sulting from  it,  which  were  hard  enough  in  themselves 
to  be  endured,  and  to  which  my  unhumbled  heart  was 
by  no  means  properly  disposed  to  submit. 

"  Yet  I  must,  notwithstanding,  regard  this  short  sea- 
son of  my  apprenticeship  as  among  the  choicest  mercies 
of  my  life.  Not  that  I  learned  any  wisdom,  or  self-gov- 
ernment, or  submission,  by  my  deep  and  lasting  disgrace 
and  anguish  :  but  for  two  reasons.  The  first  and  most 
important  was  this  :  My  master,  though  himself,  not  onl^ 
irreligious,  but  in  many  respects  immoral,  first  excited 
in  my  mind  a  serious  conviction  of  sin  committed  against 
God.  Remonstrating  with  me  on  one  instance  of  my  mis- 
conduct, he  observed,  that  I  ought  to  recollect,  it  was 
not  only  displeasing  to  him,  but  wicked  in  the  sight  of 
God.  This  remark  produced  a  new  sensation  in  my  soul, 
which  no  subsequent  eiforts  could  destroy  ;  and  proved, 
I  am  fully  satisfied,  as  far  as  any  thing  proceeding  from 
man  was  instrumental  to  it,  the  primary  cause  of  my  sub- 
sequent conversion ! — With  this  circumstance,  therefore, 
my  narrative  in  the  '  Force  of  Truth'  commences.'^ 

Here,  in  transcribing  my  father's  manuscript,  I  find 
it  impossible  not  to  pause,  for  the  purpose  of  avowing  the 
impression  which  this  simple,  undisguised  narrative 
makes  upon  my  mind,  and  in  which,  I  persuade  myself, 


-8  i:\HLV    IJFK.  [ClIAP.    1- 

1  shall  have  the  sympathy  of  all  those  who  duly  appreci- 
ate what  the  writer  afterwards  became.  The  excellent 
Mr.  Cecil,  in  his  usual  vStriking  manner,  remarks, 
'•The  history  of  a  man's  own  life  is,  to  himself,  the  most 
interesting  history  in  the  world,  next  to  that  of  the 
Scriptures.*'  He  adds,  **  None  can  either  undei*stand 
or  feel  the  book  of  his  own  life  like  himself."  This  is 
inidoubtedly  true  :  yet  the  history  of  the  human  mind, 
\n  perhaps  every  instance  where  we  can  fairly  come  at 
it,  is  and  mnst  be  deeply  interesting  to  all  pious  and 
thinking  ])ersons. — The  reflections  suggested  by  the 
present  narrative,  at  the  period  at  which  we  have  arri- 
ved, may  be  not  at  all  uncommon  ;  yet  they  are  both  af- 
fecting and  important.  What  sad  marks  of  depravity 
may  be  traced  even  in  the  earliest  periods  of  life,  by 
those  who  honestly  observe  thenLselves,  and  judge  by  the 
holy  law  of  God ! — How  far  off*  from  himself  does  Al- 
mighty Ood  often  find  even  his  most  chosen  instruments 
of  good,  when  he  first  begins  to  form  them  for  his  service! 
— And  by  what  remarkable,  what  apparently  trivial  and 
most  unexpected  means  does  he  frequently  work,  to  re- 
claim them  from  their  w  andcrings !  Who  could  have 
expected  an  ungodly,  and  even  infidel  man,  to  use  such 
words  in  remonstrating  with  an  undutiful  apprentice? 
and  much  more  who  could  ever  have  anticipated  the  ef- 
fects that  were  to  follow  from  them,  when  so  used  ? — I 
subjoin  another  remark  of  the  same  dear  friend  of  my 
father's  just  (pioted  :  '"  The  Christian  w  ill  look  back 
throughout  eternity  with  interest  and  delight  on  the 
steps  and  means  of  his  conversion.  '  My  father  said 
this !  My  mother  told  me  that !  Such  an  event  was 
sanctified  to  me.  In  such  a  place  God  visited  my  soul.' 
These  recollections  will  never  grow  dull  and  wearisome." 
— Finally,   does  any  young  person,  contemplating  the 


1747—1763.]  EARLY    LIFE.  29 

early  aberrations  of  a  Newton,  a  Cecil,  a  Buchanan,  or  a 
Scott;  and  knowing  what  good  men  they  afterwards 
proved  ;  feel  tempted  to  flatter  himself  that  he  shall  live 
to  repent,  and  thus  "  have  peace,''  though  he  should 
now  gratify  his  passions,  and  walk  in  the  imagination  of 
his  own  heart  ?*  Let  him  tremble  to  indulge  the  forlorn 
and  presumptuous  hope.  Let  him  remember,  that, 
while  the  few  who  are  reclaimed  from  youthful  depravity 
to  piety,  happiness,  and  usefulness,  are  recorded,  the 
great  multitude  who  sink  into  ruin,  from  which  there  is 
no  return,  pass  unnoticed.  Their's  is  the  ordinary,  the 
natural  course.  They  form  the  rule^  the  others  the  ex- 
ception.— Manasseh,  the  wicked  son  of  Hezekiah,  was 
indeed  borne  with  during  a  reign  of  fifty-five  years,  and, 
probably  in  the  latter  part  of  it,  brought  to  repentance 
and  to  God  :  but  his  son  Amon,  perhaps  presuming  on 
his  father's  example,  was  cut  off  at  the  end  of  two  years, 
and,  for  aught  that  appears,  died  in  his  sins. 

The  account  given  of  the  period  referred  to,  in  the 
opening  of  the  "  Force  of  Truth,"  may  be  properly  in- 
troduced in  this  place.  It  is  as  follows  :  "  Though  I 
was  not  educated  in  what  is  commonly  considered  as  ig- 
norance of  God  and  religion,  yet,  till  the  sixteenth  year 
©f  my  age,  I  do  not  remember  that  I  ever  was  under  any 
serious  conviction  of  being  a  sinner,  in  danger  of  wrath, 
or  in  need  of  mercy  ;  nor  did  I  ever  during  this  part  of 
my  life,  that  I  recollect,  offer  one  hearty  prayer  to  God 
in  secret.  Being  alienated  from  God  through  the  igno- 
i'once  that  was  in  me^  I  lived  without  him  in  the  world  ; 
and  as  utterly  neglected  to  pay  him  any  voluntary  ser- 
vice, as  if  I  had  been  an  atheist  in  principle. 

^*'But  about  my  sixteenth  year  I  began  to  see  that  T 

•     *SeQ  Dent.  xxix.   18—21 


M)  EARLY    LTFF/.  [ChaP.    I. 

was  a  sinner.  I  was  indeed  a  leper  in  every  part,  tliere 
f)eing  *  no  health  in  me  :'  but^  out  of  many  external  indi- 
cations of  inward  depravity,  conscience  discovered  and 
reproached  me  with  one  especially ;  and  I  was,  for  the 
first  time,  discpiieted  with  apprehensions  of  the  wTath  of 
an  offended  (iod.  My  attendance  at  the  Lord's  table 
was  expected  about  the  same  time  ;  and,  though  I  was 
very  ignorant  of  the  meaning  and  end  of  that  sacred  or- 
dinance, yet  this  circumstance,  uniting  with  the  accusa- 
tions of  my  conscience,  brought  an  awe  upon  my  spirits, 
and  interrupted  my  before- undisturbed  course  of  sin. 

"  Being,  however,  an  utter  stranger  to  the  depravity 
and  helplessness  of  fallen  nature,  I  had  no  doubt  that  I 
could  amend  my  life  whenever  I  pleased.  Previously 
therefore  to  communicating,  I  set  about  an  unwilling  re- 
formation ;  and,  procuring  a  form  of  prayer,  I  attempted 
to  pay  my  secret  addresses  to  the  Majesty  of  heaven. 
Having  in  this  manner  silenced  my  conscience,  I  partook 
of  the  ordinance.  I  held  my  resolutions  also,  and  con- 
tinued my  devotions,  such  as  they  were,  for  a  short  time  : 
but  they  were  a  weariness  and  a  task  to  me ;  and,  temp- 
tations soon  returning,  I  relapsed ;  so  that  my  prayer- 
l)ook  was  thrown  aside,  and  no  more  thought  of,  till  my 
conscience  was  alarmed  by  the  next  warning  given  for  the 
celebration  of  the  Lord's  supper.  Then  the  same 
ground  was  gone  over  again,  and  with  the  same  issue. 
Ml/  f^oodness  tvas  like  the  morning  detv,  that  passeth 
mvay :  and,  loving  sin,  and  disrelishing  religious  duties 
as  much  as  ever,  I  returned^  as  the  soiv  that  it  washed 
to  her  uuilloiviiia;  in  the  mire. 

"  With  little  variation,  this  was  my  course  of  life  for 
nine  years :  but  in  that  time  I  had  such  experience  of  my 
own  weakness,  and  of  the  superior  force  of  temptation, 
that  1  secretly   concluded  reformation  in  my  case  to  b.e 


1747 1763.]  EARLY    LHE.  ,  31 

impracticable.  Can  the  Ethiopian  change  his  skin,  or 
the  leopard  its  spots  P  I  was  experimentally  convinced 
that  I  was  equally  unable,  with  the  feeble  barrier  of  res- 
olutions and  endeavours,  to  stem  the  torrent  of  my  im- 
petuous inclinations,  when  swelled  by  welcome,  suitable, 
and  powerful  temptations.  And,  being  ignorant  that 
God  had  reserved  this  to  himself  as  his  own  work  ;  and 
had  engaged  to  do  it  for  the  poor  sinner,  who,  feeling 
his  own  insufficiency,  is  heartily  desirous  to  have  it  done 
by  him ;  I  stifled  my  convictions  as  well  as  I  could,  and 
put  off  my  repentance  to  a  more  convenient  season. ^^ 

We  now  return  to  the  narrative. 

''  The  other  benefit  derived  from  my  short  space  of 
apprenticeship  was  this  :  I  was  dismissed  for  gross  mis- 
conduct, before  the  whole  premium  agreed  on  had  been 
paid :  my  father  resolutely  refused  to  pay  the  remainder  ; 
and  my  master  as  decidedly  refused  to  give  up  my  inden- 
tures till  it  was  paid  :  and  no  compromise  was  attempted. 

The  claim  of  my  master  was,  I  apprehend,  legal :  bur 
his  retaining  my  indentures,  after  I  was  finally  dismissed, 
was  an  illegal  method  of  enforceing  it,  for  which,  in  the 
opinion  of  rather  high  authority,  ample  damages  might 
have  been  recovered  at  the  close  of  the  term.  The  con- 
sequence was,  that,  being  nominally  this  person's  appren- 
tice, I  could  not  be  placed  out  with  another  :  and  thus  I 
was  finally  excluded  from  that  profession  for  which  I  was 
designed,  and  in  which  probably  I  should  have  succeed- 
ed as  to  this  world ;  but,  in  that  case,  the  whole  history 
of  my  life  would  have  been  changed.'^ 

My  father  here  subjoins  in  a  note  :  "  My  master  lived 
till  after  I  had  published  the  '  Force  of  Truth,'  and,  so 
far  from  desiring  damages  from  him,  I  wished  and  pur- 
posed to  express  my  gratitude  to  him,  as  the  instrument 
of  God  to  me  for  good,  by  sending  him  a  book  or  two, 


32  KARLY    LIFE.  [ChAP.    I. 

accompanied  by  a  letter  :  hut  I  pi'ocrastinated  till  it  was 
too  late,  which  I  have  ever  since  regretted.  Second 
thoughts,  in  such  cases,  are  seldom  best." 

It  may  be  added,  that  he  feelingly  regretted  this  omis- 
sion, even  on  his  dying  bed. — '•  Whatsoever  thy  hand 
(in (let h  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might" — promptly,  as  well 
as  decidedly. 

But  while  my  father  properly  acknowledges,  with 
gratitude,  the  good  of  which  providence  made  these 
events  the  occasion  to  him,  it  may  still  fairly  be  remark- 
ed, that  the  measure  he  met  with  from  man  appears  to 
have  been  hard.  To  be  thus  summarily  dismissed  from 
his  apprenticeship  at  the  end  of  two  months,  on  the  first 
discovery,  as  it  appears,  of  an  olTence,  even  though  a  high 
one. — and  that  by  a  man  who  set  him  the  example  of 
immorality  in  his  own  conduct,  and  deprived  him  of  the 
opportunity  of  receiving  religious  instruction  and  good 
impressions,  on  the  sabbath,  w\is  certainly  severe  treat- 
ment. His  future  apparent  interests  in  life  were  also 
sacrificed,  or  unwarrantably  disregarded,  amid  the  con- 
tentions of  two  high-spirited  men.  And  the  degi'adation 
and  hardships,  to  which,  as  it  will  be  seen,  he  was  sub- 
jected through  many  succeeding  years,  appear  to  have 
been  dictated  rather  by  the  mortified  pride  of  his  family, 
than  by  any  just  principle.  Certainly,  though  provi- 
dence turned  it  all  tor  good,  and  rendered  it  subservient 
to  the  accomplishment  of  great  events,  yet  the  conduct  of 
his  father  cannot  be  recommended  as  a  model  for  imita- 
tion under  similar  circumstances.  I  would  further,  how- 
ever, remai'k,  that,  under  the  whole  even  of  this  severe 
dis(  ipline,  he  was  to  be  congratulated,  or  even  envied,  in 
comparison  with  such  young  persons  as,  in  cases  of  similar 
misconduct,  either  escape  detection,  or  are,  by  the  lalsc 
tenderness  of  friends,  screened  from  all  punishment. 


1747—1763.]  EARLY    LIFE.  33 

What  follows^  considered  as  describing  that  which  pro- 
bably laid  the  foundation  of  diseases  under  which  he  suf- 
fered to  his  dying  day,  illustrates  the  remark,  often  made, 
concerning  the  severity  with  which  a  rightous  God  frequent" 
ly  punishes  sin,  even  where  its  eternal  consequences  are 
mercifully  prevented. 

"  Immediately  on  my  return  home,  I  was  set  to  do,  as 
well  as  I  could,  the  most  laborious  and  dirty  parts  of  the 
work  belonging  to  a  grazier.  On  this  I  entered  at  the 
beginning  of  winter  :  and,  as  much  of  my  father's  farm 
consisted  of  low  land,  which  was  often  flooded,  I  was  in- 
troduced to  scenes  of  hardship,  and  exposed  to  many  dan" 
gers  from  wet  and  cold,  for  which  my  previous  habits 
had  not  prepared  me.  In  consequence  I  was  frequently 
ill,  and  at  length  suffered  such  repeated  and  obstinate 
maladies,  (especially  the  ague,  and  effects  following  from 
it, )  that  my  life  was  more  than  once  despaired  of.  Yet  a 
kind  of  indignant,  proud  self- revenge  kept  me  from  com- 
plaining of  hardship  ;  though  of  reproach,  and  even  of 
reproof,  I  was  impatient  to  the  greatest  degree  of  irasci- 
bility. 

^^I  had  now  many  serious  thoughts  of  God,  and  of 
eternity,  and  every  illness  produced  a  sort  of  paroxysm 
of  religion  ;  in  which,  having  prayed  for  pardon  in  an 
earnest,  but  ignorant  manner,  I  felt  satisfied  that  I  should 
be  happy  if  I  died ;  though,  as  soon  as  I  was  restored  to 
health,  all  my  religion  vanished  as  the  morning  cloud  V^ 

Another  paragraph  from  the  '  Force  of  Truth'  may 
further  illustrate  what  is  here  briefly  stated. — "  Being 
of  a  reflecting  turn,  and  much  alone,  aware  of  the  uncer- 
tainty of  life,  I  w  as  disquieted  with  continual  apprehen- 
sions, that  the  more  convenient  seaso7i^^  for  repentance^ 
to  which  I  looked  forward,  ''  would  never  arrive  ;  espe- 
cially as,   through  an  unconfirmed  state  of  health,  I  had 

E 


34  EAKi-Y   LI  IE.  [Chap.  1. 

many  warnings,  and  near  ])rospccts  of  death  and  eterni- 
ty. For  a  long  time  I  entertained  no  doubt  that  impeni- 
tent sinners  would  be  miserable  foi*  ever  in  hell  :  and,  at 
some  seasons,  sueh  amazing  reflections  upon  this  awful 
subject  forced  thewselves  into  my  mind,  that  I  was  over- 
powered by  them,  and  my  fears  became  intolerable.  At 
such  times  my  extemporary  crises  for  mercy  were  so  earn- 
est and  persevering,  that  I  was  scarcely  able  to  give  over ; 
though,  at  others,  I  lived  without  prayer  of  any  sort. 
Yet,  in  my  darkest  hours,  though  my  conscience  was  awa- 
kened to  discover  more  and  more  sinfulness,  there  remain- 
ed a  hope  tliat  I  should  one  day  repent  and  turn  unto  God. 
If  this  hope  were  from  myself,  it  was  a  horrid  presump- 
tion ;  but  the  event  makes  \\c  willing  to  acknowledge  a 
pei^uasion  that  it  w\is  from  the  Lord  :  for,  had  it  not  been 
for  this  hope,  I  should  probably  have  given  way  to  temp- 
tations, which  frequently  assaulted  me,  to  put  an  end  to 
my  own  life,  in  proud  discontent  with  my  lot  in  this  world . 
and  in  mad  despair  about  another,'' 


1763 72.]         FftOM  HIS  APPRENTICESHIP,  &C.  35 


CHAPTER  II.- 


FROM  HIS  APPRENTICESHIP  TO  HIS  ORDINATION 


The  narrative  now  proceeds  :  "  After  a  few  unsuc- 
cessful attempts,  my  father  gave  up  all  thoughts  of  pla- 
cing me  out  in  any  other  way  :  and  for  above  nine  years 
I  was  nearly  as  entire  a  drudge  as  any  servant  or  la- 
bourer in  his  employ  ;  and  almost  as  little  known  be- 
yond the  circle  of  immediate  neighbours.  My  occupa- 
tion was  generally  about  the  cattle,  and  particularly,  in 
the  spring  season,  it  consisted  in  following  the  ewes  great 
with  young.  In  this  service  I  learned  habits  of  hardi- 
ness in  encountering  all  sorts  of  weather,  (for  the  worse 
the  weather  the  more  needful  was  it  that  I  should  be 
with  the  ewes, )  which  have  since  proved  useful  to  me  : 
and,  though  I  was  not  kept  from  learning  many  vices,  1 
was  out  of  the  way  of  acquiring  habits  of  ease  and  indul- 
gence, as  I  should  otherwise  probably  have  done. 

"  My  situation,  however,  necessarily  led  me  to  asso- 
ciate with  persons  of  the  lowest  station  of  life,  and  wholly 
destitute  of  religious  principle — in  all  ranks  the  grand 
corrective,  and  in  this  rank  almost  the  soul  restraint  upon 
character  and  manners.  These  persons  tried  to  please 
me  with  flatteries,  and  to  inflame  still  more  the  indignan- 
cy  of  spirit  with  which  I  rebelled  against  the  supposed 
degradation  that  I  suffered.  I  was  induced  also,  not  un- 
frequently,  to  accompany  them  in-  their  low-lived  riots : 


36  1  KO.M  HIS  AiM'UENTICESlilF  [CllAP.  IL 

which  further  embittered  the  mind  of  my  father  respect- 
ing me.      Yet  still  I  not  only  had  seasons  of  remoi-se,  but, 
strange  to  say,  continued  to  entertain  thoughts  of  tlie  uni- 
versity, and  of  the  clerical  profession  !  These  and  various 
ideas  and  imaginations  concerning  study,  and  learning, 
and  even  the  distinctions  of  learning,   formed  no  small 
part  of  my  waking  dreams,  in  the  tedious  seasons  of  soli- 
tude which  I  was  condemned  frequently  to  pass.     Hence 
in  the  winter  evenings,  when  not  seduced  from  home,  and 
at  other  times,  when  I  had  any  leisure,  I  read  whatever 
books  I  could  procure ;  and,  I  doubt  not,  should  have 
made  considerable  proficiency,  but  for  two  impediments. 
First,  my  father,  though  himself  remarkably  fond  of  read- 
ing, and,  for  his  station  in  life,  studious,  yet  always  con- 
sidered my  attachment  to  books,  even  when  shewn  only 
in  my  leisure-hours,  as  wholly  inconsistent  with  diligence 
in  my  business  :  so  that  frowns  and  rebukes,  and  frequent 
declarations,  that  he  foresaw  that  I  should  come  to  be  a 
charge  to  the  parish,  where  my  only  encouragement  in 
these  pursuits  ; — which  greatly  strengthened  the  tempta- 
tion to  spend  my  leisure  time  from  home,  and  often,  un- 
suspected by  him,  in  low  and  abandoned  company.     Per- 
haps I  was  sometimes  engaged  with  a  book,  when  I  ought 
to  have  been  otherwise  employed :  yet,  after  I  had  left 
him,  he  gave  me  full  credit  both  for  diligence  and  skill  in 
my  services. — My  other  impediment  was,  that,  having 
had  books  found  for  my  use  at  school,  which,  of  course, 
J  did  not  bring  away  with  me  ;  I  had  now  scarcely  any 
thing  to  study  relative  the  languages,  and  other  subjects, 
on  which  my  heart  was  set.     A  few  torn  Latin  books  I 
had,    and  a  small  imperfect    dictionary  :     but  not  one 
Greek  book,  except  an  Eton  granunar. 

"  The  discontent  which  corroded  my  mind,  during 
several  of  these  years,  surpasses  description  ;  and  it  sour- 


1763-^ — 1772.]       TO  HIS  ordination.  37 

ed  my  temper  beyond  its  natural  harshness  :  thus  render- 
ing me  a  great  temptation,  as  well  as  trial,  to  my  father, 
and  those  around  me  ;  to  whom  I  generally  behaved  very 
disrespectfully,  not  to  say,  insolently.  After  some  time, 
however,  I  became  rather  more  reconciled  to  my  lot ;  and 
concluded,  that,  though,  for  my  misconduct  at  Alford,  I  was 
treated  more  harshly  than  others  of  the  family,  I  should 
at  length  be  provided  for  as  a  grazier  :  and,  inconsequence, 
waking  dreams  of  other  pursuits  seemed  to  be  less  vivid 
in  my  mind. 

''  I  had  only  one  surviving  brother,  and  he  was  well 
situated  in  a  farm  :  my  father  was  far  advanced  in  life, 
and  not  of  a  strong  constitution  :  and  I  supposed,  as  I  believe 
most  of  the  family  did,  that  I  should  succeed  to  his  farm. 
But  at  length  I  discovered  (for  it  was  not  intended  that 
I  should  know  it,)  that  the  lease  of  this  farm  was  left  by 
will  to  my  brother  ;  and  that  I  was  merely  to  be  under 
tenant  to  him  for  some  marsh  grazing  lands,  which  were 
without  a  house,  and  on  which,  I  knew,  a  family  could 
not  be  decently  maintained. — -Indeed  it  has  since  been 
rendered  indisputably  certain,  that,  during  the  distresses 
of  the  American  war,  no  person,  so  circumstanced,  could 
possibly  have  stood  his  ground  ;  and  numbers,  far  better 
provided  for  than  I  should  have  been,  became  day-labour- 
ers to  the  end  of  life.'^ 

Before  we  proceed  to  the  consequences  of  the  discove 
ry  thus  made,  it  may  perhaps  not  be  improper  just  to  in 
sert  here  a  brief  notice  of  such  of  my  father's  family  as 
lived  till  he  himself  became  known  to  the  public,  and  who 
will  be  adverted  to  in  subsequent  parts  of  these  memoirs. 
They  were  four  in  number ;  three  sisters,  and  the  broth- 
er above-mentioned.  Margaret  the  wife  of  Mr.  Thomas 
Ford,  attorney  at  law,  died  in  London  in  the  year  1801 : 
Bridget,  his  youngest  sister,  wife  of  Mr.  Francis  Burgess. 


38  1 KOM  Ills  APPRENTICESHIP  [ChAP.  11, 

a  manufacturer  and  alderman  of  Leicester,  died  there  in 
1814  ;  and  Susamia,  tlie  widow  of  Mr.  Thomas  Webster, 
of  Boston,  who  was  four  years  older  than  my  father,  died 
at  the  house  of  her  son.  the  vicar  of  Oakington,  near 
Cambiidge,  in  the  montli  of  April,  1820.  Mrs.  Webster 
will  frecjuently  be  mentioned  in  the  following  pages  under 
the  description  of  the  elder*  and  Mrs.  Ford  under  that  of 
the  younger  sister.  The  brother  (William)  was  thirteen 
years  older  than  my  father,  and  died  only  the  year  before 
him  (March,  1820,)  at  Boston.  In  speaking  of  him  I 
should  be  sorry  to  say  any  thing  painful  to  the  feelings 
of  survivors  ;  but  there  was  some  tiling  so  remarkably 
different  in  the  history  of  the  two  brothers,  that  it  is 
hardly  to  be  passed  over  without  notice.  William  was  a 
man  of  pow  erful  understanding,  strong  health,  and  come- 
ly person.  The  favourite  of  his  family  and  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood ;  he  set  out  in  life  with  every  advantage.  His 
education  was  indeed  plain,  yet  at  eighty  years  of  age  he 
wrote  on  subjects  connected  with  his  own  line  of  life,  so 
as  to  obtain  much  applause,  and  to  be  styled  in  some  pe- 
riodical ])ublications,  '  the  Nestor  of  agriculture.'  Yet. 
by  the  indulgence  of  unsubdued  tempei*s,  he  involved 
himself  in  great  vexations  and  troubles  ;  and  was,  by  va- 
rious means,  at  length  reduced  to  be  dependent  for  sub- 
sistence, in  great  part,  upon  that  very  younger  brother 
who  in  early  life  had  been  almost  the  outcast  of  his  family, 
and  of  whom  it  had  been  foretold  that  he  would  come  to  be 
'  a  charge  to  the  parish  :'  but  who.  through  the  happy 
influence  of  true  religion  u])on  his  whole  temper  and  con- 
duct, was  now  living  in  credit  and  esteem,  "  blessed  him- 
self, and  a  blessing*''  to  all  around  him.  So  true  is  it, 
that  "  God  seeth  not  as  man  seeth.'*t  ^^^  the  elder 
brother  was  by  no  means  regardless  of  religion  :   he  took 

*  Gen.  xii.  2,  t  1  Sam.  xvi.  7. 


1763 — 1772.]       TO  HIS  ordination.  2B 

a  lively  interest  in  it ;  and  I  would  fain  hope  felt  its  pow- 
er :  but  alas !  he  was  far  from  taking  it  up  in  that  right 
manner  J  and  applying  it  to  all  the  duties  of  life,  as  his 
younger  brother  did. 

My  father  was  thus  eventually  the  survivor  of  the  whole 
family^  and  was  for  years  acknowledged  by  them  all  as 
their  common  friend  and  benefactor. — But  we  return  from 
this  digression,  into  which  the  mention  of  his  '*  only  sur- 
viving brother/'  on  whom  the  last  will  of  his  father  was 
to  render  him  dependent,  has  led  us.     He  proceeds  : 

^^  On  this  discovery,  I  determined  to  make  some  effort^ 
however  desperate,  to  extricate  myself :  and  I  only  wait- 
ed for  an  opportunity  to  declare  my  determination.  With- 
out delay,  my  Greek  grammar  was  studied  through  and 
through  ;  and  I  made  what  use  I  could  of  my  Latin  books : 
my  father,  in  the  mean  time,  expressing  his  astonishment 
at  my  conduct. 

'^  At  length,  in  April,  1772,  I  avowed  my  intention, 
in  almost  the  worst  manner  possible.  After  a  long  wet 
day  of  incessant  fatigue,  I  deemed  myself,  and  perhaps 
with  justice,  to  be  causelessly  and  severely  blamed, 
and  I  gave  full  vent  to  my  indignant  passions  ;  and, 
throwing  aside  my  shepherd's  frock,  declared  my  purpose 
no  more  to  resume  it.  That  night,  I  lodged  at  my  broths 
er's^  at  a  little  distance  :  but,  in  the  morning,  I  consid- 
ered that  a  large  flock  of  ewes,  in  yeaning  time,  had  no 
one  to  look  after  them,  who  was  competent  to  the  task. 
I  therefore  returned,  and  did  what  was  needful ;  and 
then  set  off  for  Boston,  where  a  clergyman  resided,  with 
whom  I  had  contracted  some  acquaintance,  by  convers- 
ing with  him  on  common  matters,  when  he  came  to  do 
duty  in  my  brother's  village,  and  took  refreshment  at  his 
house. 

*'  To  this  clergyman  I  opened  my  mind  with  hesitation 


40  1  ROM  Ills   APPRENTICESHIP  [ChAP.  II. 

and  trepidation  :  and  nothing  could  well  exceed  his  as- 
tonishment when  he  heard  my  purpose  of  attempting  to 
ohtain  orders.  He  knew  me  only  as  a  shepherd,  some- 
wliat  more  conversible.  perhaps,  than  others  in  that  sta- 
tion, and  immediately  asked,  *  Do  you  know  any  thing 
of  Latin  and  (ireek  ?'  I  told  him,  I  had  received  education, 
but  that  for  almost  ten  years  I  had  never  seen  a  Greek 
book,  except  the  grammar.  He  instantly  took  down  a 
Greek  Testament,  and  put  it  into  my  hands  ;  and  without 
difliculty  I  read  several  verses,  giving  both  the  Latin  and 
English  rendering  of  them,  according  to  the  custom  of 
our  school.  On  this,  having  strongly  expressed  his  sur- 
prise, he  said,  '  Our  visitation  will  be  next  week :  the 
Archdeacon,  Dr.  Gordon,  will  be  here  ;  and,  if  you  will 
be  in  the  town^  I  will  mention  you  to  him,  and  induce  him, 
if  I  can,  to  send  for  you.'  This  being  settled,  I  returned 
immediately  to  my  father  for  the  intervening  days  ; 
knowing  how  much,  at  that  season,  he  wanted  my  help, 
for  services  which  he  could  no  longer  perform  himself, 
and  was  not  accustomed  to  entrust  to  servants.'' 

It  is  certainly  gratifying,  amid  the  representations 
which  my  father  has  given  of  his  own  temper  and  conduct 
at  this  time,  to  meet  with  these  proofs,  that,  however  ira- 
scible, he  did  not  retain  resentment,  and  quickly  return- 
ed to  some  sense  of  filial  duty.  It  may  at  least  gratify 
the  reader's  curiosity  to  peruse  an  extract  of  a  letter  writ- 
ten just  at  this  period.  It  is  the  earliest  but  one  that  has 
come  into  my  hands.  It  is  dated  ^^  Boston,  May  17, 
1772,"  (less  than  a  month  after  first  quitting  his  father.) 
and  is  addressed  to  his  sisters. 

"  As  I  expected,  I  had  some  difficulty  in  reconciling 
my  friends  here  to  my  intended  scheme.  My  uncle 
Jackson,  as  my  god -father,  reminded  me  of  my  duty  to 
my  father.  My  answer  was,  that  I  found  I  could  not  perform 


1763 — 1772.]         TO  HIS  ordination.  41 

the  positive  part^  I  must  therefore  endeavour  to  perform 
the  negative  part :  that,  though  in  my  former  conduct  I 
had  too  often  transgressed,  yet  in  this  particular  my  con- 
science acquitted  me.     My  aunt  urged  that,  if  I  had  not 
success,  I  could  turn  my  hand  to  nothing  else.     I  men- 
tioned a  school,  for  which  I  think  myself  well  qualified, 
being  so  able  to  instruct  myself.     However,  after  a  long 
and  serious  discourse  on  the  subject,  I  left  them  both  tole- 
rably well  satisfied.     My  cousin  Wayet  has  said  nothing 
to  me  on  the  subject.     Mrs.  Wayet  endeavoured  to  rally 
me  out  of  it :  but,  I  must  own,  I  thought  her  arguments 
weak.     She  urged  the  ridicule  which  poor  parsons  meet 
with  :  but  surely  those  who  ridicule  any  one  on  account 
of  his  poverty,  if  he  behaves  in  a  manner  worthy  of  his 
situation,  are  themselves  persons  whose  opinion  I  despise. 
— She  said,  she  would  not  be  of  any  profession,  unless  at 
the  head  of  it :  but  this  can  be  no  rule  for  general  prac- 
tice, as  some  must  be  subordinate. — She  mentioned  my 
not  being  brought  up  in  a  regular  manner  :  but  it  is  the 
end,  not  the  means,  that  is  of  the  greatest  consequence  ; 
and,  if  a  man  be  qualified,  it  matters  not  at  what  place  he 
procured  his  qualifications.     It  sometimes  humbles  my 
vanity  to  hear  them  all  account  of  me,  as  of  one  of  the 
lowest  order  of  the  profession,  not  only  in  point  of  fortune, 
but  also  in  other  particulars.     If  I  know  myself,  I  am 
not  deficient  in  abilities,  though  I  am  in  the  art  of  ren- 
dering them  conspicuous  ;  my  vanity  prompts  me  to  say, 
that  I  am  not  without  hopes  of  making  friends  in  this 
way  of  life,  as  I  shall  be  more  conversant  with  men  of  let- 
ters, who  are  the  companions  I  most  delight  in,  and  for 
whose  company  I  shall  spare  no  pains  to  qualify  myself. 
But  let  my  condition  in  life  be  what  it  will,  I  will  endea^ 
vour  to  suit  myself  to  it.     Pray  heaven  preserve  me  in- 
dependent on  any  other  for  a  livelihood,  and  I  ask  no 

F 


42  FROM   HIS   APPKENTICKSmi'  [CHAl'.   II. 

more !  The  happiest  hours  I  ever  spent  have  been  in 
your  company,  and  the  greatest  rehictance  I  feel  at  this 
change  of  my  situation  is,  the  being  separated  from  a  set 
of  sistei*s,  for  whom  I  have  the  most  sincere  regard." 
He  resists  his  *•  heaviness"  by  the  text,  ''  Why  art  thou 
so  heavy,  0  my  soul?  and  why  art  thou  so  disquieted 
within  me?"' 

*•  As  the  appointed  time/'  he  says  in  his  narrative, 
•^  I  returned  to  Boston,  (where  my  family  was  well 
known,)  and  readily  found  access  to  the  Archdeacon,  who 
A\as  also  examining  chaplain  to  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  Dr. 
Green.  Before  him  I  repeated,  in  another  part  of  the 
Greek  Testament,  what  I  had  done  at  the  clergyman's 
house  ;  and  was  asked  many  questions,  which  I  answered 
without  the  least  disguise.  The  Archdeacon  concluded 
the  interview,  by  assuring  me  that  he  would  state  my  case 
to  the  Bishop,  and  saying  that  he  thought  it  probable 
his  lordship  would  ordain  me. 

••  Thus  encouraged,  I  expended  all  the  little  money, 
which  I  could  raise,  on  books;  went  to  live  at  Boston; 
and  applied  diligently  to  study — especially  to  improve  my 
knowledge  of  the  Greek  Testament,  (the  Gospels  in  par- 
ticuhus)  and  to  recover,  or  rather  to  accpiire,  the  ability 
of  composing  in  Latin.  In  English,  I  had  now^  for  some 
years  been  ready  in  expressing  my  thoughts,  and  had  even 
been,  in  some  instances,  a  writer  in  newspapers  and  ma 
gazines.  I  daily,  therefore,  wrote  in  Latin,  on  texts  of 
Scripture,  a  sort  of  short  sermons,  which  my  friend,  the 
clergyman,  revised ;  and,  in  return,  I  afforded  him  very 
seasonable  and  welcome  assistance  in  a  grammar-school, 
which  he  Uuight.*' — In  a  note  it  is  here  observed,  ^^My 
ability  of  writing,  and  tlic  How  of  my  ideas  came  to  me 
chiefly  by  corresponding  with  my  sistei-s,  on  sentimenta^ 
and  other  subjects." — The  narrative  proceeds  : 


1763 — 1772.]       TO  HIS  ordination.  43 

''  The  religious,  or  rather  irreligious,  state  of  my 
mind,  at  this  period  has  been  shown  in  the  '  Force  of 
Truth  :'  but  regard  to  decorum,  in  many  respects,  ren- 
dered my  outward  conduct  more  correct  than  formerly  ; 
and  I  constantly  attended  at  the  church,  and  the  Lord's 
table. 

''  Every  circumstance  concurred  with  my  eagerness  of 
spirit  to  render  it  desirable  that  matters  should  be  brought 
to  a  crisis :  and  those,  whom  alone  I  could  consult,  were 
of  opinion,  that  it  was  as  likely  that  I  should  obtain  ordi- 
nation on  the  ensuing  Trinity- Sunday,  (June  14,)  as  at  a 
future  period.     This  was  not  seven  weeks  from  the  time 
of  my  first  leaving  my  father.     Having  therefore  procur- 
ed a  title  to  a  small  curacy,  (Martin,  near  Horncastle,)  I^ 
with  great  labour,  walking  above  fifty  miles  for  the  pur- 
pose, got  my  testimonials  signed,  and  other  things  in  re- 
gular order.     I  had  learned  from  the  Archdeacon,  that 
the  ordination  would  be  held  in  London ;  and,  having  sent 
my  papers  to  the  Bishop,  though  I  received  no  answer,  I 
went  thither  at  the  appointed  time.     But  on  my  arrival 
I  was  informed,  that,  as  my  papers  had  not  come  in  time, 
and  other  circumstances  were  not  satisfactory,  I  was  not 
admitted  a  candidate.     In  fact,  I  was  most  groundlessly 
suspected  of  metMdism  ! — On  this  I  earnestly  entreated 
that  his  lordship  would  allow  me  to  speak  with  him  :  and 
he  very  condescendingly  complied  with  my  request.    He 
asked  me  many  questions  as  to  the  manner  and  events  of 
my  past  life  ;  my  family,   my  prospects,  and  my  reasons 
for  wishing  to  enter  into  orders  :  and  I  answered  all  with 
unreserved  sincerity  and  frankness  ;  which,  apart  from 
religion,  I  then  thought,   and  still  think,  the  best  pru- 
dence.    He  however  still  negatived  my  urgent  request  to 
be  admitted  as  a  candidate  at  that  ordination  :  but  he  said, 
that,  if  I  would  procure  my  father's  consent,  and  a  let- 


44  FROM  iiis  Ari'UENTicEsmi'         [CiiAP.  n. 

tcr  from  any  beneficed  clergyman  in  the  neigh bonrhood, 
whom  he  knew,  probably  he  should  admit  me  at  the  next 
ordination.  This  answer,  however,  induced  a  kind  of 
despair.  I  was  not  personally  known  to  half-a-dozen 
clergymen  of  the  description  recpiired,  and  my  attempt 
was  utterly  reprobated  by  every  one  of  them,  Jis  in  a  high 
degree  presumptuous.  1  was  now  in  the  twenty-sixth 
year  of  my  age,  wholly  without  the  prospect  of  a  decent 
subsistence  :  yet  my  father  most  decidedly  set  himself 
against  my  design ;  and,  if  his  consent  w  ere  necessary, 
there  could  be,  as  I  thought,  no  hope. — Having,  there- 
fore, spent  a  short  time  in  London,  in  viewing  some  of 
its  curiosities,  (for  I  had  not  been  there  before,)  and  in 
visiting  some  relations,  in  rather  a  superior  station  ;  and, 
having  received  from  them  some  inappropriate  counsel, 
and,  I  tliink,  undeserved  rebukes,  with  a  few  small  pre- 
sents, I  set  out  on  my  journey  home.  I  travelled  by  a 
circuitous  route,  a  great  part  of  the  w  ay  on  foot,  and  the 
rest  in  various  vehicles.  At  length  I  reached  Braytoft, 
after  walking  twenty  miles  in  the  forenoon  ;  and,  having 
dined,  I  put  off  my  clerical  clothes,  resumed  my  shep- 
herd's dress,  and  sheared  eleven  large  sheep  in  the  af- 
ternoon !'' 

The  reader  can  scarcely  fail  to  be  struck  with  the  en- 
ergy of  character  displayed  in  this  simple  narrative,  or 
to  be  amused  with  the  exhibition  of  it,  which  the  finish- 
ing day's  work  afforded.  Whatever  the  subject  of  this 
memoir  did,  he  '*  did  it  with  his  might.'' 

^*This,  however,-'  he  observes,  **  was  my  last  labour  of 
the  kind.  My  attempt  to  obtain  orders  had  been  widely 
made  known  in  the  neighbourhood,  even  much  beyond, 
the  sphere  of  my  personal  acquaintance  ;  and  it  had  ex- 
cited much  attention  and  astonishment,  with  no  small  de- 
gree of  ridicule.     This  raised  the  spirit  of  my  relations; 


1763 — 1772.]       TO  HIS  ordination.  45 

and  the  sentiment  expressed  by  my  brother  was  that  of 
the  other  branches  of  the  family  :  '  I  wish/  said  he^  '  my 
brother  had  not  made  the  attempt :  but  I  cannot  bear  to 
have  it  said,  that  one  of  our  name  undertook  what  he  was 
unable  to  accomplish  !' 

"  In  consequence  of  this  sensation,  my  brother  and  all 
my  sisters  met  by  appointment  at  my  father's  house  ;  and, 
with  my  mother,  urged  it  in  the  most  earnest  manner,  as 
his  indispensible  duty,  either  to  consent  to  my  ordina- 
tion, or  to  fix  me  in  a  farm  on  my  own  account.  I  ap- 
prehend it  was  clearly  foreseen  what  his  concession  would 
be,  if  he  could  be  induced  to  concede  at  all :  and  accord- 
ingly, after  much  debate,  he  gave  his  consent  in  writing 
to  my  entering  into  orders. 

"  Thus  the  difficulty,  which  I  regarded  as  insuperable, 
was,  in  a  most  unexpected  manner,  surmounted;  and, 
my  hopes  reviving,  I  was  prepared  to  struggle  over 
other  obstacles,  if  possible.  Despairing  of  obtaining  a 
letter  to  the  Bishop  from  any  of  the  beneficed  clergymen 
to  whom,  as  living  within  a  few  miles,  I  was  in  some  de- 
gree known,  I  applied  without  delay  to  the  vicar  of  Bos- 
ton, Dr.  Calthorp,  who  was  well  acquainted  with  my  mo- 
ther and  her  family,  though  he  had  seldom,  if  ever,  seen 
me,  till  I  met  the  archdeacon  at  his  house.  He  behaved 
in  the  most  candid  manner  ;  yet,  as  a  truly  conscientious 
man,  (which  I  believe  he  really  was,)  he  said  justly,  that 
he  could  not  sign  my  testimonial,  or  state  any  thing  con- 
cerning me  from  his  own  knowledge,  except  for  the  short 
time  which  had  passed  since  I  first  came  to  his  house  : 
but  that  he  could  give  a  favourable  account  as  to  that 
time ;  and,  if  I  could  procure  attestations  from  any  re- 
spectable persons,  though  not  clergymen,  he  would  trans- 
mit them,  with  his  own  letter,  to  the  bishop. — Thus  en- 
couraged, I  went  again  to  reside  at  Boston,  where  I  ap 


^^  FHOM  HIS   APPRKNTICFSHIP.  [ChAP.   II. 

plied  diligently  to  my  studies  :  but  I  wjis  greatly  frown 
ed  on  by  many  of  my  relations  ;  and  I  frequently  heard 
the  laugh  of  the  boys,  as  I  walked  about  the  streets  in  a 
brown  coat,  and  with  lank  hair,  pointing  me  out  as  *  the 
parson!'"^ — If  this  were  a  species  of  persecution,  it  cer- 
tainly was  not  for  Chrisfs  sake,  or  for  right eousripss^ 
sake :  for  the  account  given  in  the  '  Force  of  Truth'  suf- 
ficiently shews,  that  I  w^as  estranged  from  both  at  this 
time. 

"At  the  ensuing  Michaelmas  ordination  I  was  admit- 
ted a  candidate  without  objection,  and  was  examined  at 
Biickden  by  Dr.  Gordon.  After  examination  on  other 
matters,  he  asked  me  numerous  questions  concerning  the 
nature  of  miracles  ;  how  real  miracles  might  be  distin- 
guished from  counterfeit  ones ;  and  how  they  proved  the 
truth  of  the  doctrine  in  support  of  which  they  were 
v.'rought.  This  was,  indeed,  almost  the  only  theological 
topic  which  I  had  studied  with  any  tolerable  attention. 
He,  however,  perceived  that  I  began  to  be  alarmed,  and 
kindly  said,  '  You  need  not  be  uneasy:  I  only  wished  to 
try  of  what  you  were  capable  :  and  I  perceive  that  Chris- 
tianity has  got  an  able  advocate  in  you.' — I  could  not  find 
myself  at  liberty  wholly  to  suppress  this  remarkable  at- 
testion,  which,  I  believe,  is  expressed  in  exactly  the 
words  he  used  :  but  had  he  known,  either  my  creed,  and 
the  state  of  my  heart,  at  that  time;  or  whither  my  subse- 
quent inquiries  would  idtimately  lead  me ;  I  am  persua- 
ded he  would  not  have  spoken  as  he  did  :  though  he  was 
a  far  more  reasonable  and  candid  man,  in  respect  of 
those  who  diirered  from  him,  even  though  vilified  as 
methodists  and  enthusiasts,  than  is  commonly  met  with." 

From  two  letters  of  my  father's,  addressed  to   his  sis- 

*  "  All  clergymen,  at  that  time,  either  wore  wigs,  or  had  their 
hair  dressed." 


1763 — 1772.]       TO  HIS  ordination.  47 

ters,  and  dated  the  one  at  Buckden^  the  day  on  which  he 
was  ordained  deacon,  the  other  at  London,  March  13, 
1773,  the  day  before  he  received  priest's  orders,  it  may 
be  collected,  that  he  passed  both  his  examinations  with 
much  credit;  and  that,  had  the  latter  ordination  taken 
place  in  the  country,  he  was  to  have  had  the  honour  of 
preaching  before  the  bishop  on  the  occasion. 

As  a  specimen  of  his  early  correspondence,  and  a  con- 
firmation of  what  he  has  declared  concerning  his  state  of 
mind  at  the  time,  I  am  induced  to  give  the  former  of  these 
letters, — premising,  however,  that  it  is  of  a  very  different 
character  from  any  other  that  will  be  inserted  in  this 
work. 

"  Buckden,  September  20,  1772. — Dear  Sisters,  Suc- 
cess is  always  agreeable ;  though  there  is  a  success  that 
would  have  been  mortifying ;  but  mine  is  of  the  most 
agreeable   sort.     Compliments,    high  compliments  from 

both  Dr.   Gordon  and  my  fellow  candidates As  I 

have  a  little  time  to  spare,  I  shall  endeavour  to  give  you 
a  sketch  of  my  companions  here.  The  first  I  shall  men- 
tion is  a  Scotchman,  a  man  of  parts.  To  a  sound  judg- 
ment he  joins  a  most  ready  wit,  and  an  agreeable  affabili- 
ty. He  tells  a  story  in  his  Scotch  dialect  in  the  most  hu- 
morous manner  imaginable.  He  is  eqally  qualified  for 
serious  or  literary  conversation ;  and  I  have  contracted 
something  of  an  intimacy  with  him.  His  fault  is,  that  he 
is  too  sensible  of  his  own  abilities. — The  next  is  a  most 
solemn  ignoramus ;  a  member  of  the  university ;  who 
knows  just  as  much  Latin  as  I  did  when  I  had  been  two 
years  at  Scorton.  He  is  in  deacon's  orders  :  so,  in  solemn 
consultation,  we  made  a  theme  for  him  ;  and,  as  he  is  a 
man  that  bears  a  good  character,  Dr.  G.,  I  believe,  know- 
ingly overlooked  it.  Had  we  not  assisted  him,  it  would 
have  gone  nigh  to  have  killed  him. — The  third  is  a  metho- 


60  PliOM    HIS    APPRENTICESHIP  [ChAP.   II. 

ever  your  great  and  daring  spirits  may  despise  it,  I  deem 
a  great  advantage." 

The  other  i-ehites  to  the  motive  which  had  led  him  to 
decide  in  favour  oF  Bu(kinghamshire. 

"October  23,  1772. — I  thought,  when  I  got  so  far 
from  home,  nobody  would  know  in  what  way  of  life  I  had 
been,  but  I  was  mistaken.  By  many  expressions  and  ac- 
tions, which  I  have  made  use  of,  every  one  knows  that 
I  am  well  acquainted  with  the  grazing  business,  and  my 
company  is  much  desired  by  the  farmers,  to  discourse 
with  me  on  our  methods  of  proceeding  in  Lincolnshire  : 
but  I  perceive  not  that  it  is  any  detriment  to  me.  In 
truth  I  am  very  ill  calculated  to  act  the  hypocrite.  When 
I  am  asked  a  question  which  I  know  how  to  answer,  I 
cannot  pretend  ignorance.  Sincerity  in  words  is  so  natu- 
ral to  me,  that  I  do  not  think  it  any  merit ;  for  I  can 
hardly  help  speaking  as  I  think,  though  afterwards  I  ac- 
cuse myself  of  indiscretion.  Discretion,  in  the  lesser 
branches  of  it,  an  ingenious  artless  person  can  hardly  prac- 
tice :  and  I  know  not  whether  it  be  worth  his  while  to 
attempt  it.'' 

"The  Force  of  Truth,''  he  now  observes,  "sufficient- 
ly explains  the  state  of  my  heart  and  my  conduct,  as 
it  must  have  appeared  in  the  sight  of  God,  in  this  most 
solemn  concern  of  my  ordination ;  and  it  suffices  here  to 
say,  that,  considered  in  all  respects,  I  deliberately  judge 
this  whole  transaction  to  have  been  the  most  atrocious 
wickedness  of  my  life.  But  I  did  not,  at  the  time,  in  any 
degree  regard  it  in  this  light ;  nor  did  I,  till  long  after, 
feel  any  remoi^e  of  conscience  for  my  prevaricating^  if 
not  directly  li/ing  subscriptions  and  declarations,  and  all 
the  evil  of  niy  motives  and  actions,  in  the  whole  concern. 
— Yet  a  sermon  preached  by  a  young  man,  who  was  or- 
dained priest  at  the  time,  butwho  never  appeared  amongst 


1763 — 1772.]       TO  HIS  ordination.  51 

us,  on  the  office  and  duty  of  a  minister,  attracted  my  at- 
tention ;  met  my  approbation  ;  and  I  think,  on  reflec- 
tion, was  of  some  use  to  me.  His  name,  as  I  recollect, 
was  Symmonds  :  I  have  since  heard  of  him  ;  but  know 
nothing  particular  of  his  subsequent  history.  However, 
I  feel  assured,  that  good  sermons,  on  such  occasions,  con- 
cerning the  ministerial  office  and  duty,  especially  if 
preached  by  seniors,  would  produce  very  important  ef- 
fects on  young  men,  too  often  thoughtlessly  assuming  a 
sacred  character,  without  having  ever  been  seriously  ad- 
monished of  their  duty  and  responsibility.'' 

Some  passages  from  the  '  Force  of  Truth'   may  here, 
again,   be  advantageously    placed  before  the  reader. — - 
^'  At  this  period/'  says  the  author — referring  to  the  time 
when  he  lived  at  home  with  his  father,  subsequently  to 
his  apprenticeship — "  though  I  was  the  slave  of  sin,  yet, 
my  conscience  not  being  pacified,  and  my  principles  not 
greatly  corrupted,  there  seemed  some  hope  concerning 
me  :  but  at  length  Satan  took  a  very  effectual  method  of 
silencing  my  convictions,  that  I  might  sleep  securely  in 
my  sins  :  and  justly  was  I  given  over  to  a  strong  delusion 
to  believe  a  lie,  when  I  held  the  truth  that  I  did  know 
in  unrighteousness.     I  met  with  a  Socinian  comment  o» 
the  scriptures,  and  greedily  drank  the  poison,  because  it 
quieted  my  fears,  and  flattered  ray  abominable  pride. 
The  whole  system  coincided  exactly  with  my  inclinations, 
and  the  state  of  my  mind.     In  reading  this  exposition, 
sin  seemed  to  lose  its  native  ugliness,  and  to  appear  a  very 
small  and  tolerable   evil  ;    man's   imperfect  obedience 
seemed  to  shine  with  an  excellency  almost  divine ;  and 
God  appeared  so  entirely  and  necessarily  merciful,  that 
he  could  not  make  any  of  his  creatures  miserable,  w  ith- 
out  contradicting  his  natural  propensity.     These  things 
influenced  my"  mind  so  powerfully,  that  I  was  enabled  to 


^0  PROM    HIS    APPRENTICESHIP  [ChAP.   II. 

ever  your  grent  and  daring  spirits  may  despise  it,  I  deem 
a  great  advant;ige.*' 

The  otiier  relates  to  the  motive  which  had  led  him  to 
decide  in  lavour  of  Bik  kinghamshire. 

^^  October  23,  1772. — I  thought,  when  I  got  so  far 
from  home,  nobody  would  know  in  what  way  of  life  I  had 
been,  but  I  was  mistaken.  By  many  expressions  and  ac- 
tions, which  I  have  made  use  of,  every  one  knows  that 
I  am  well  acquainted  with  the  grazing  business,  and  my 
company  is  much  desired  by  the  farmers,  to  discourse 
with  me  on  our  methods  of  proceeding  in  Lincolnshire  : 
but  I  perceive  not  that  it  is  any  detriment  to  me.  In 
truth  I  am  very  ill  calculated  to  act  the  hypocrite.  When 
I  am  asked  a  question  which  I  know  how  to  answer,  I 
cannot  pretend  ignorance.  Sincerity  in  words  is  so  natu- 
ral to  me,  that  I  do  not  think  it  any  merit ;  for  I  can 
hardly  help  speaking  as  I  think,  though  afterwards  I  ac- 
cuse myself  of  indiscretion.  Discretion,  in  the  lesser 
branches  of  it,  an  ingenious  artless  person  can  hardly  prac- 
tice :  and  I  know  not  whether  it  be  worth  his  while  to 
attempt  it.'' 

^^The  Force  of  Truth,^'  he  now  observes,  "sufficient- 
ly explains  the  state  of  my  heart  and  my  conduct,  as 
it  must  have  appeared  in  the  sight  of  God,  in  this  most 
solemn  concern  of  my  ordination ;  and  it  suffices  here  to 
say,  that,  considered  in  all  respects,  I  deliberately  judge 
this  whole  transaction  to  have  been  the  most  atrocious 
wickedness  of  my  life.  But  I  did  not,  at  the  time,  in  any 
degree  regard  it  in  this  light ;  nor  did  I,  till  long  after, 
feel  any  remoi^e  of  conscience  for  my  prevaricating,  if 
not  directly  lying  subscriptions  and  declarations,  and  all 
the  evil  of  my  motives  and  a(  tions,  in  the  whole  concern. 
— Yet  a  sermon  preached  by  a  young  man,  who  was  or- 
dained priest  at  the  time,  butwho  never  appeared  amongst 


1763 — 1772.]       TO  HIS  ordination.  51 

us,  on  the  office  and  duty  of  a  minister,  attracted  my  at- 
tention ;  met  my  approbation  ;  and  I  think,  on  reflec- 
tion, was  of  some  use  to  me.  His  name,  as  I  recollect, 
was  Symmonds  :  I  have  since  heard  of  him  ;  but  know 
nothing  particular  of  his  subsequent  history.  However, 
I  feel  assured,  that  good  sermons,  on  such  occasions,  con- 
cerning the  ministerial  office  and  duty,  especially  if 
preached  by  seniors,  would  produce  very  important  ef- 
fects on  young  men,  too  often  thoughtlessly  assuming  a 
sacred  character,  without  having  ever  been  seriously  ad- 
monished of  their  duty  and  responsibility." 

Some  passages  from  the  '  Force  of  Truth'   may  here, 
again,   be  advantageously    placed  before  the  reader. — - 
^^  At  this  period/'  says  the  author — referring  to  the  time 
when  he  lived  at  home  with  his  father,  subsequently  to 
his  apprenticeship — "  though  I  was  the  slave  of  sin,  yet, 
my  conscience  not  being  pacified,  and  my  principles  not 
greatly  corrupted,  there  seemed  some  hope  concerning 
me  :  but  at  length  Satan  took  a  very  effectual  method  of 
silencing  my  convictions,  that  I  might  sleep  securely  in 
my  sins  :  and  justly  was  I  given  over  to  a  strong  delusion 
to  believe  a  lie,  when  I  held  the  truth  that  I  did  know 
in  unrighteousness.     I  met  with  a  Socinian  comment  on 
the  scriptures,  and  greedily  drank  the  poison,  because  it 
quieted  my  fears,  and  flattered  my  abominable  pride. 
The  whole  system  coincided  exactly  with  my  inclinations, 
and  the  state  of  my  mind.     In  reading  this  exposition, 
sin  seemed  to  lose  its  native  ugliness,  and  to  appear  a  very 
small  and  tolerable   evil  ;    man's   imperfect  obedience 
seemed  to  shine  with  an  excellency  almost  divine ;  and 
God  appeared  so  entirely  and  necessarily  merciful,  that 
he  could  not  make  any  of  his  creatures  miserable,  with- 
out contradicting  his  natural  propensity.     These  things 
influenced  my"  mind  so  powerfully,  that  I  was  enabled  to 


52  IKOM  HIS   APHHENTICKSmi'  [ChAP.  It. 

consider  myself,  notwitlistaiuliiig  a  lew  little  l)lennshes, 
as  upon  the  whole  a  very  worthy  being.  At  the  same 
time,  the  mysteries  of  the  gospel  being  explained  away, 
or  brought  down  to  the  level  of  man's  comprehension, 
by  such  pi'oud  and  corrupt,  though  specious  reasonings  ; 
by  acceding  to  these  sentiments,  I  was,  in  my  own  opini- 
on, in  point  of  understanding  and  discernment,  exalted 
to  a  superiority  above  the  generality  of  mankind  :  and  I 
pleased  myself  in  looking  down  with  contempt  upon  such 
as  were  weak  enough  to  believe  the  orthodox  doctrines. 
Thus  I  generally  soothed  my  conscience  :  and,  if  at  any 
time  I  was  uneasy  at  the  apprehension  that  I  did  not 
thoroughly  deserve  eternal  happiness,  and  was  not  en- 
tirely fit  for  heaven  ;  the  same  book  afforded  me  a  soft 
pillow  on  which  to  lull  myself  to  sleep.  It  argued,  and 
I  then  thought  proved,  that  there  were  no  eternal  tor- 
ments :  and  it  insinuated,  that  there  were  no  torments 
except  for  notorious  sinners  ;  and  that  such  as  should 
just  fall  short  of  heaven  would  sink  into  their  original  no- 
thing. With  this  welcome  scheme  I  silenced  all  my 
fears,  and  told  my  accusing  conscience,  that,  if  I  fell 
short  of  heaven,  I  should  be  annihilated,    and  never  be 

sensible  of  my  loss 

^'  111  this  aw^ful  state  of  mind  I  attempted  to  obtain  ad- 
mission into  holy  orders  ! As  far  as  I  understood  such 

controversies,  I  was  nearly  a  Socinian  and  Pelagian,  and 
wholly  an  Arminian. . . .  While  I  was  preparing  for  the  so- 
lemn ofiice,  I  lived,  as  before,  in  known  sin,  and  in  utter 
neglect  of  prayer  ;  my  whole  preparation  consisting  of 
nothing  else,  than  an  attention  to  those  studies,  which 
were  more  imme^liately  requisite  for  reputably  passing 
through  the  previous  examination. 

'^  Thus  with  a  heart  full  of  pride  and  wickedness  ;  my 
life  polluted  with  many  unrepented,  unforsaken  sins ; 


1763 — 1772.]       TO  HIS  ordination.  53 

without  one  cry  for  mercy,  one  prayer  for  direction  or 
assistance,  or  for  a  blessing  upon  what  I  was  about  to  do  ; 
after  having  concealed  my  real  sentiments  under  the  mask 
of  general  expressions  ;  after  having  subscribed  articles 
directly  contrary  to  what  I  believed ;  and  after  having 
blasphemously  declared,  in  the  presence  of  God  and  of  the 
congregation,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  sealing  it  with 
the  Lord's  Supper,  that  I  judged  myself  to  be  '  inward- 
ly moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost  to  take  that  office  upon  me,' 
— not  knowing  or  believing  that  there  was  any  Holy 
Ghost, — on  September  the  20th,  1772,  I  was  ordained  a 
deacon. 

"  For  ever  blessed  be  the  God  of  all  long-suffering  and 
mercy,  who  had  patience  with  such  a  rebel  and  blasphe- 
mer ;  such  an  irreverent  trifler  with  his  majesty  ;  and 
such  a  presumptuous  intruder  into  his  sacred  ministry  ! 
I  never  think  of  this  daring  wickedness,  without  being  fill- 
ed with  amazement  that  I  am  out  of  hell  :  without  adoring 
that  gracious  God,  who  permitted  such  an  attrocious  sin- 
ner to  live,  yea,  to  serve  him,  and  with  acceptance,  I 
trust,  to  call  him  Father,  and  as  his  minister  to  speak  in 
his  name.  Bless  the  Lord^  0  my  soul^  and^  all  that  is 
within  me,  bless  his  holy  name  !  Bless  the  Lord,,  O  my 
soul,  and  forget  not  all  his  benefits  !  who  forgiveth  all 
thy  iniquities,  and  healeth  all  thy  diseases ;  who  re- 
deemeth  thy  life  from  destruction  ;  who  crowneth  thee 
with  loving-kindness  and  tender  mercies  !  May  I  fer- 
vently love,  and  very  humbly  and  devotedly  serve  that 
God,  who  hath  multiplied  his  mercies  in  abundantly  par- 
doning my  complicated  provocations !'' 

Seldom,  I  believe,  has  a  prayer  been  more  strikingly 
answered,  than  that  which  my  dear  father  here  so  hum- 
bly and  fervently  offers ;  as  his  subsequent  life,  during  a 
period  of  five  and  forty  years^  amply  testified. 


54  I  ROM  HIS  APPRENTICESHIP  [ChAP.  II. 

He   ])roceeds,  (still  in  the  Force  of  Truth,)  "  I  had 
considerable  difliculties  to   surmount  in  obtaining  admis- 
sion into  the  ministry,  arising  from  my  peculiar  circum- 
stances ;  which  likewise  rendered  my  conduct  the  more 
inexcusable  :  and  my   views,   as   far  as  I  can  ascertain 
them,   were   these  three  :  a  desire  of  a  less  laborious, 
and  more  comfortiible  way  of  procuring  a  maintenance, 
than  otherwise  I  had  the  prospect  of: — the  expectation  of 
more  leisure  to  employ  in  reading,  of  which  I  was  inor- 
dinately fond  : — and  a  proud  conceit  of  my  abilities,  with 
a  vain-glorious  imagination,  that  I  should  some  time  dis" 
tinguish  and  advance  myself  in  the  literary  world.  These 
were  my  ruling  motives  in  taking  this  bold  step  :  motives 
as  opposite  to  those  which  should  influence  men  to  enter 
on  the  sacred  office,  as  pride  is  opposite  to  humility,  am- 
bition to  contentment  in  a  low  estate,  and  a  willingness 
to  be  the  least  of  all,  and  the  servant  of  all ;  as  oppo- 
site as  love  of  self,  of  the  world,  of  filthy  lucre,    and 
slothful   ease,  is  to  the  love  of  God,  of  souls,  and  of  the 
laborious  work  of  the  ministry.     To  me  therefore  be  the 
shame  of  this  heinous  sin,  and  to  God  be  all  the  glory  of 
over-ruling  it  for  good,  I  trust,  both  to  unworthy  me, 
and  to  his  dear  people,  the  church  tvhich  he  hath  pur- 
chased ivith  his  own  blood  .''* 

Having  thus  brought  down  the  history  of  my  father's 
life  to  the  period  of  his  ordination,  without  suppressing 
one  material  word  which  he  has  written  upon  the  subject, 
it  appears  to  me  that  there  are  two  points  which  may 
need  some  apology  ;  meaning  by  that  term,  however,  ra- 
ther defence  than  excuse. 

First,  I   know  not  whether  some  readers  may  think, 

*  See  further  my  father's  Practical  Observations  on  the  case 
of  "  Korah  and  his  company,"  Numbers  xvi. 


1763 — 1772.]       TO  HIS  ordination.  56 

that  the  particulars  relative  to  his  admission  into  holy 
orders  are  detailed  with  an  unnecessary  minuteness.  My 
answer  to  such  an  objection  must  be,  that  I  cannot  allow 
the  introduction  into  the  church  of  the  subject  of  these 
memoirs  to  be  put  on  the  same  footing  with  evert/  event 
of  the  like  nature.  In  its  consequences  it  has  proved  to 
thousands,  and  I  doubt  not  will  prove  to  thousands  more, 
of  the  highest  importance.  In  its  circumstances,  there- 
fore,  which  were  not  common  ones,  and  in  themselves  in- 
volve a  remarkable  display  of  character,  it  cannot  fail  to 
be  interesting  to  all,  who  take  pleasure  in  tracing  the 
means  by  which  providence  accomplishes  its  designs,  often 
rendering  the  evil  passions,  or  evil  conduct  of  man  sub- 
servient to  the  display  of  the  goodness  of  God. 

The  other  point  is  one  which  it  is  of  much  greater  im- 
portance to  place  in  a  just  light :  I  mean  the  severe  judg- 
ment, as  many  will  think  it,  which  my  father  passes  upon 
himself  and  his  own  conduct.  This  extends  itself  to  every 
part  of  his  life  :  to  his  early  days  at  school ;  to  his  ap- 
prenticeship ;  to  his  conduct  while  subsequently  resident 
with  his  father  ;  and  to  no  period,  nor  to  any  event,  more 
remarkably  than  to  his  taking  upon  him  the  sacred  office 
of  the  ministry.  We  read  here  nothing  of  the  levities 
or  the  indiscretions  of  youth,  where  real  immoralities  are 
intended  ;  nothing  of  simple  improprieties,  and  the  want 
of  greater  consideration  and  more  serious  thought.  The 
offences  of  the  school-boy  are  sins  against  God :  unduti- 
fulness  to  a  parent,  even  though  the  conduct  of  that  pa- 
rent be  marked  by  some  degree  of  harshness,  is  regard- 
ed as  a  crime  :  and,  above  all,  tampering  with  solemn  sub- 
scriptions, and  intruding  into  the  sacred  office  from  am- 
bitious, self-indulgent,  and  other  unhallowed  motives,  is 
felt  as  an  impiety,  which  no  words  are  strong  enough  to 
describe.     Yet,  after  all,  some  may  be  ready  to  ask,  and 


j6  from  his  apprenticeship       [Chap.  II. 

not  without  a  degree  of  justice,  What  was  there,  at 
least  it*  one  or  two  exceptions  be  made,  woi^e  than  is 
found  in  thousands,  who  are  never  troubled  with  any 
such  apprehensions  of  the  enormity  of  their  conduct  ? — 
Now  I  feel  that  I  proceed  entirely  upon  principles  which 
he,  whose  case  gives  occasion  to  the  enquiry,  would  sanc- 
tion, and,  what  is  still  more  important,  upon  the  princi- 
ples of  scripture  itself,  when  I  return  the  following  an- 
swer to  this  question.  Every  thing  depends  upon  the 
standard  by  which  we  judge.  If  the  current  opinions 
of  mankind  be  our  standard,  then  it  will  be  easy  for 
us  to  "  make  light  of  sin," — our  own  sins,  and  those 
of  others.  But  if,  with  the  holy  character  before  us — for 
such  he  had  become  before  he  wrote  either  of  his  narra- 
tives,— we  "  enter  into  the  sanctuary  of  God,''  and  judge 
by  the  standard  of  his  holy  law, — especially  as  it  is  ex- 
plained by  our  blessed  Saviour  in  his  sermon  on  the  mount, 
— then  the  purest  and  most  blameless  among  us  will  find 
reason  to  cry,  even  with  anguish  of  spirit,  "  God  be  mer- 
ciful to  me  a  sinner  !"  If  we  there  obtain  some  glimpses 
of  the  majesty  and  glory  of  the  '*  holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord 
God  almighty,"  then,  far  from  shining  in  our  own  eyes, 
or  comparing  ourselves,  to  our  own  advantage,  with  our 
fellow  sinners,  we  shall  be  prepared,  with  Job,  and  Da- 
vid, and  Isaiah,  and  Daniel,  and  St.  Peter,  and  St.  Paul,* 
and  Augustine, t  and  a  thousand  others  who  have  obtain- 
ed "^  good  report"  in  the  annals  of  the  church,  to  ex- 
claim, "  1  abhor  myself  and  repent  in  dust  and  ashes. — 
Wo  is  me,  I  am  undone  ! — Remember  not  against  me  the 
sins  and  offences  of  my  youth!" — And  this  is  the  true 

*  Job,xlii.Psal.xxv,  li.  Isa.  vi.  Luke  v.  8.   1  Tim.  i.  12—16. 
'    t  See  the  affecting  and  edifying  abstract  of  his  Confessions  in 
Milner's  Church  Hist.  vol.   ii.— And  on  the  whole  subject,  sec 
my  father's  Discourse  on  Repentance. 


1763 — 1772.]       TO  HIS  ordination.  57 

explanation  of  the  judgment  which  my  father  passes  upon 
his  own  character  and  conduct. 

And,  with  respect  to  the  particular  part  of  the  ahove 
narrative,  which  relates  to  the  views  and  motives  for  en- 
tering into  holy  orders,  let  me  join  its  author  in  earnestly 
soliciting  a  most  serious  attention  to  it,  from  all  those  of 
the  clergy  whose  eye  it  may  meet,  and  who  may  never 
yet  have  taken  such  solemn  views,  as  they  will  think  them, 
of  their  own  office,  and  of  the  temper  with  which  it  should 
be  undertaken.  Many  persons  of  this  class  are  known 
to  have  been  brought  to  a  new,  and  what  I  must  be  allow- 
ed to  call,  a  better  sense  of  the  subject,  by  what  my  fa- 
ther has  already  laid  before  the  public  concerning  his 
own  case :  and  my  prayer  is,  that  that  case,  when  thus 
anew,  and  more  fully  presented,  may  be  attended  with 
like  effects  to  many  more. 

The  reasons  assigned  in  the  former  of  these  two  reflec- 
tions induce  me  not  to  omit  an  incident,  yet  more  mi]iute. 
but  still  having  its  place  to  fill  in  bringing  about  the  event 
under  consideration.  My  father  has  recorded  it  as  follows. 

•^  One  circumstance,  very  trivial  in  itself,  was  so  im- 
portant in  its  consequences,  that  I  am  not  willing  to  pass 
it  over. — At  the  sheep- shearing  which  followed  my  dis- 
graceful return  from  Alford,  in  1762,  a  small  ewe-lamb, 
marked  with  a  black  spot  on  the  side,  in  rather  a  peculi- 
ar manner,  attracted  my  notice  :  and  my  father,  being 
probably  in  high  good- humour  on  the  occasson,  gave  it 
me  ;  and,  though  kept  among  his  sheep,  it  was  branded 
as  mine.  Though  I  was  always  nearly  moneyless,  and 
never  possessed  a  guinea  in  my  life,  till  I  was  above  twen- 
ty years  old,  I  never  yielded  to  the  temptation  of  selling 
any  of  the  lambs  which  this  ewe  brought  me  :  so  that  by 
management,  in  exchanging  male  lambs  for  young  ewes, 

H 


58  FROM  HIS   AFPKENTICKSHIP.         [ChAP.  11- 

notwithstiinding  the  loss  of  nine  of  my  little  flock,  in  one 
year,  by  the  rot,  I  possessed  sixty- eight  sheep,  besides 
lambs,  when  I  attempted  to  obtiiin  orders.  These,  after 
many  objections,  my  lather  purchased  for  68/.  :  and  this 
constituted  the  whole  of  my  fortune.  I  had  not  a  friend 
in  the  world  who  offered  to  advance  me  five  pounds  in 
my  exigency  ;  and  I  verily  believe,  that,  if  the  success 
orfailui^  of  my  application  had  depended  upon  it,  no  one 
w  ould  have  been  found  able  and  willing  to  advance  monc} 
sufficient  for  my  expences.  When  my  flither  had  grant- 
his  consent,  I  had  no  expectation,  and  perhaps,  after  all 
the  vexation  which  my  ill-behaviour  had  caused  him,  I 
had  no  fair  reason  to  expect,  that  he  would  give  any 
thing  further.  But  with  this  68/.  I  bought  needful 
books ;  boarded  myself  for  some  time  at  Boston  ;  pro- 
cured suitable  clothes  ;  paid  all  travelling  expences,  and 
those  attending  my  ordination  ;  and  entered  on  my  cura- 
cies possessed  of  twenty  guineas, — a  sum  which,  at  that 
time,  was  indeed  to  me  considerable. — On  such  trivial  in- 
cidents do  the  most  important  events  depend  ;  without 
this  lamb,  and  the  sheep  which  in  this  way  I  acquired, 
as  far  as  I  can  see,  my  whole  plan  of  entering  into  holy 
orders  must  have  failed.'' 

From  a  series  of  my  father's  letters  to  two  of  his  sisters,, 
extending  from  within  one  month  after  his  quitting  Bray- 
toft,  in  April,  1772,  till  near  the  close  of  his  life,  for 
w  hich  I  am  indebted  to  my  esteemed  relative,  the  Rev. 
Thomas  Webster,  I  am  happy  here  to  confirm,  what  I 
before  took  occasion  to  infer,  the  speedy  revival  of  sen- 
timrnts  of  filial  duty  in  his  breast,  whatever  irritation  he 
might  at  the  time  have  felt  and  expressed.  Not  a  sen- 
tence of  a  disrespectful  kind  towards  his  fiUher  occurs  in 
these  free  and  confidential  communications  ;  but  they 
contain  many  which   express  great  respect  and  regard. 


1763 — 1772.]       TO  HIS  ordination.  59 

May  17,  1772,  he  says,  "  In  my  actions  to  my  father,  I 
never  offended  ;  in  my  words,  I  have  too  often  :  but  my 
chief  desire  is  to  avoid  that  for  the  future.'' — September 
18,  1773  :  "  Surely  nothing  can  afford  more  satisfaction 
to  the  considerate  breast,  than  to  comfort  the  heart  of  an 
aged  parent."  This  indeed  is  spoken  with  especial  re- 
ference to  his  mother. — January  5,  1774  ;  of  his  father 
and  mother  :  "  May  all  the  blessings  we  have  each  receiv- 
ed from  them  (perhaps  not  the  most  inconsiderable  when 
the  most  unpalatable,)  be  tenfold  repaid  them,  here  or 
hereafter,  by  the  God  of  mercies  !" — July  20,  1774  : 
^'  To  give  pain  or  uneasiness  to  others  I  hardly  bear ; 
but  to  give  pain  premeditately  to  a  parent,  even  by  inno- 
cent conduct,  w^ounds  my  sensibility,  and  staggers  my 
resolution,  even  where  I  think  my  duty  is  at  stake.'' — 
What  a  tender  concern  he  felt  for  his  father,  when  he 
had  himself  become  more  decidedly  religious,  we  may 
have  future  opportunities  of  discerning. 

Indeed  justice  requires  the  remark,  that  this  whole 
series  of  letters,  from  the  very  first,  conveys  a  more  fa- 
vourable impression,  than  his  own  report  would  have  led 
us  to  expect,  of  his  social  character.  The  constant,  co- 
pious, and  confidential  correspondence  kept  up  with  his 
sisters  would,  of  itself,  be  a  very  favourable  indication 
upon  this  subject.  But,  in  addition  to  this,  the  letters 
throughout  breathe  strong  affection  to  all  his  family,  and 
shew  him  to  have  taken  a  lively  interest  in  their  concerns ; 
and  to  have  been  zealous  to  serve  them,  as  well  as  quali- 
fied to  do  so  by  great  acuteness  and  sound  sense. 


00  ! KUM   HIS   CUtlJiNAI  ION.  ChAV     HI- 


CHAPTER  III. 


FROM  HIS  ORDINATION  TO  IIIS  MAKRIAGJB. 

We  no  proceed  to  contemplate  the  subject  of  our  me- 
moirs in  his  new  and  higher  character  of  a  minister  of  the 
established  church. 

^^  After  the  ordination,  having  officiated  on  two  Sun- 
days as  Martin,  in  almost  an  empty  church,  (for  service 
was  very  seldom  performed  there,)  I  removed  to  Stoke 
Goldington,  and  entered  on  my  new  curacies  ;  boarding 
with  a  parishioner  for  twenty  guineas  a  year. 

^^My  regular  services  were  at  Stoke  and  Weston  Un- 
derwood :  but  my  rector  was  sub-deam  of  Lincoln  ;  and, 
when  he  went  thither  into  residence,  he  procured  other 
supplies  for  Weston,  and  1  ofHciated  at  Gayhurst,  where 
George  Wrighte,  Esq.  had  a  seat.  This  soon  brought 
me  acquainted  with  the  family.  Mr.  W.  was  a  descen- 
dent  of  Sir  Nathan  Wrighte,  Lord  Keeper  in  the  reign 
of  Queen  Anne  :  and  Mrs.  W.  was  the  only  daughter  of 
Sir  Joseph  Jekyll,  Master  of  the  Rolls,  by  lady  Anne, 
daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Halifax.  They  were  wealthy 
and  liberal,  and  lived  in  a  most  hospiUible  manner.  They 
had  been  married  several  years,  but  had  only  one  son, 
quite  a  child,  who  was  considered  as  heir  to  large  estates 
possessed  by  relatives,  who  had  no  children. 

'^  Having  several  times  dined  at  the  house  on  Sundays, 
after  my  second  service,  I  was  repeatedly  invited  to  dine 
with  parties  on  other  occasions :  and,  notwithstanding 


1772 — 1774.]        TO  HIS  marriage.  61 

my  rusticity^  I  received  so  many  invitations  from  differ- 
ent  quarters,  that  I  was  compelled  to  be  almost  rude,  in 
order  to  secure  time  for  those  studies  to  which  I  now  ap- 
plied with  indefatigable  zeal. 

"  After  a  time  Mr.  W.  employed  me  to  put  his  library 
in  order,  and  to  make  catalouge  of  the  books  ;  which,  as 
consisting  of  the  libraries  of  both  families,  w  ere  numerous 
and  valuable,  but  in  a  state  of  the  utmost  confusion.  I 
had  no  pecuniary  remuneration  ;  but  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  duplicates,  sufficient  to  recompense  my  labour. — 
This  service  I  contrived  to  render  without  much  en- 
trenching on  my  hours  of  study. 

"  Thus  commenced  an  acquaintance,  which  produced 
important  effects  on  my  future  life. 

^^  Soon  after  my  ordination  Ilearned,  that  clergymen, 
not  educated  at  the  university,  might  enter  at  Cambridge, 
and,  without  residence,  might  after  nine  years  take  the 
degree  of  Bachelor  of  Divinity.  This  w\as  represented 
to  me  as  one  step  towards  distinctions  and  advantages,  to 
which  I  was  sufficiently  alive.  Having  therefore  obtain- 
ed from  a  relation  a  letter  to  Dr.  Caryll,  Master  of  Jesus 
College,  I  went  to  Cambridge  ;  and,  on  exhibiting  in  sev- 
eral circles  my  stock  of  Latin  and  Greek,  now  somewhat 
increased,  I  met  with  that  kind  and  degree  of  applause, 
which  abundantly  elated  my  inexperienced  heart.  I 
then  entered  at  Clare- Hall,  where  my  name  stood  for  sev- 
eral years  :  but,  though  the  expence  did  not  much  exceed 
four  guineas  a  year,  when  I  had  a  family,  I  found  it  more 
than  I  could  conveniently  spare  ;  and,  my  expectation 
and  desire  of  preferments  and  distinctions  being  surper- 
seded  by  earnestness  in  the  grand  concerns  of  vital  reli- 
gion, I  took  my  name  off  the  the  boards.  In  this,  I  have 
for  some  years  doubted  whether  I  acted  wisely.'' 

Some  other  topics  connected  with  my  father's  progress: 


62  KROM  HIS  oRDiNATiox.         [Chap.  III. 

may  here  properly  receive  illustration  from  his  printed 
account  of  himself,  and  from  his  private  letters. 

His  studies^  as  they  were  at  this  time  the  object  near- 
est his  heart,  may  be  first  noticed.  ''  No  sooner,"  he 
tells  us  in  the  ^  Force  of  Truth,'  "  was  I  fixed  in  a  cura- 
cy, than  with  close  application  I  sat  down  to  the  study 
of  the  learned  languages,  and  such  other  subjects  as  I  con- 
sidered most  needful  in  order  to  lay  the  foundation  of  my 
future  advancement.  And  oh  that  I  were  now  as  diligent 
in  serving  God,  as  I  was  then  in  serving  self  and  ambition!  1 
spared  no  pains,  I  shunned,  as  much  as  I  well  could,  all 
acquaintance  and  diversions,  and  retrenched  from  my  usu- 
al hours  of  sleep,  that  I  might  keep  more  closely  to  this 
business." 

My  memory  much  deceives  me  if  I  have  not  repeated- 
ly heard  my  father  state,  that,  at  the  period  of  his 
visit  to  Cambridge,  about  the  month  of  June,  1773,  (nine 
months  after  his  ordination,)  he  had  read  through  the  en- 
tire works  of  Josephus  in  the  original  Greek  :  which 
would  of  itself  be  no  ordinary  proof  of  his  diligence,  in  the 
circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed. 

But  the  following  extract  of  a  letter  to  one  of  his  sis- 
ters, dated  September  18,  1773,  will  present  the  best 
picture  of  the  ardour  of  his  mind  in  these  pursuits  at  the 
time  referred  to. — "  I  have  for  some  time  pursued  my 
studies  with  assiduity,  but  I  have  only  lately  got  to  pursue 
them  with  method.  I  am  now  about  three  hours  in  the 
day  engaged  in  the  Hebrew.  The  books  I  use  are  a  He- 
brew Bible,  grammars,  and  lexicons,  the  noted  Septua- 
gint,  or  Greek  translation  so  much  talked  of,  and  a  com- 
ment— woidd  it  were  my  father's !  "  Alas !  his  father's 
was  the  Sociiiiaii  commentary,  noticed  in  the  '  Force  of 
Truth,'  as  the  source  from  which  he  had  already  imbibed 
so  much  poison. — "  I  began  at  the  first  chapter  of  Gene- 


1772 — 1774.]  TO  HIS  marriage.  ^ 

sis,  and  I  intend  to  go  through  the  whole  Bible  in  that  man- 
ner.  You  will  see  the  manifold  advantage  of  thus  reading 
the  scriptures.  The  original  text,  a  Greek  translation 
two  thousand  years  old  and  above,  our  translation, 
and  comments,  read  carefully,  and  compared  together, 
word  by  word,  cannot  fail  to  give  a  deep  insight  into  the 
sense  of  the  scriptures  ;  and  the  same  time  two  languages 
are  unitedly  improving.  The  same  I  am  doing  in  the 
Greek,  and  profane  history.  I  am  reading  old  Hero- 
dotus in  the  original,  in  Latin,  and  in  English.  For 
each  book  read,  whether  ancient  or  modern  history,  I 
have  my  maps  laid  before  me,  and  trace  each  incident 
by  the  map ;  and  in  some  degree  also  fix  the  chro- 
nology. So  that,  though  the  languages  seem  my  prin- 
cipal study,  history.  Geography,  chronology,  divinity, 
go  hand  in  hand.  Neither  is  logic  neglected.  I  have 
set  about  that  in  some  degree  ;  not  the  dry  scholastic 
forms,  but  the  useful  art  of  tracing  our  judgments 
to  their  origin,  and  building  our  reasons  or  inferences 
on  due  foundations ;  or  the  art  of  arguing  justly  from 
well-grounded  principles. — In  the  writing  way  I  have 
just  now  begun  a  very  arduous  task,  but,  I  hope,  not 
too  arduous.  I  have  fixed  upon  our  Saviour's  sermon 
on  the  mount,  and  have  undertaken  in  a  course  of 
sermons  to  go  through  it.  My  design  is  to  shew,  that  in 
that  short  discourse  is  comprehended  every  Christian 
virtue,  every  moral  duty  ;  that  it  is  not,  as  is  generally 
apprehended,  a  loose  set  of  detached  maxims,  but  a  regu- 
lar, consistent  system  of  morality.  What  I  shall  make 
of  it  I  know  not  :  but  I  think  I  shall,  by  well  consider- 
ing each  article,  comparing  it  with  other  parts  of  scrip- 
ture, and  the  situation  of  man  in  this  world,  find  out 
many  beauties,  at  least  to  me,  before  undiscovered.  I 
have  already  found  in  it  far  more  than  ever  I  obs(*;rved 


r>4 


PROM  HIS  ORDINATION  [ChAF.   III. 


belbrc,  or  than  any  autliors  I  have  consulted  have  noti- 
ced. I  will  assure  you  the  propriety  oi'  each  sentence, 
the  wisdom,  the  thorou.u;h  knowledi^e  of  the  human  heart, 
appear  to  me  most  admii*able. — If,  in  going  through  it  in 
the  manner  I  ])i'opose,  and  have  engaged  to  do,  in  a  course 
of  sermons,  I  should  please  myself  and  others,  I  shall  per- 
haps throw  the  whole  into  some  other  form  and  commu- 
nicate it  to  the  public.  At  least  I  made  choice  of  the 
subject  not  without  having  some  such  design  in  view  ;  and 
my  utmost  care  and  attention  shall  be  used,  to  try  wheth- 
er I  cannot  make  it  deserving  of  a  share  of  the  public  at- 
tention. 

'^  You  now  see  in  what  manner  I  spend  my  time.  I 
find  my  taste  for  study  grow  on  me  every  day.  I  only 
fear  I  shall  be,  like  the  miser,  too  covetous.  In  fact,  I 
really  grudge  every  hour  that  I  employ  otherwise. 
Others  go  out  by  choice,  and  stiiy  at  home  by  constraint : 
but  I  ever  stay  at  home  by  choice,  and  go  out  because  I 
am  persuaded  it  is  necessary.  In  every  other  expence  I 
am  grown  a  miser  :  I  take  every  method  to  save  :  but 
here  I  am  prodigal.  No  cost  do  I  in  the  least  grudge 
to  procure  advantageous  methods K)f  pursuing  my  studies. 
So  far  is  a  multiplicity  of  studies,  a  diversity  of  pursuits, 
from  overburdening  my  memory,  that,  by  exercising  it, 
I  find  it  in  a  high  degree  more  retentive  ;  as  well  as  the 
comprehending  faculty  more  quick. — Nothing  can  give 
greater  satisfaction  than  these  considerations  do.  I  ])ro- 
ceed  with  alacrity  ;  I  think  with  expidition.  Of  the  He- 
brew, some  twenty  weeks  ago  I  knew  not  a  letter  :  and  I 
have  now  read  through  one  hundred  and  nineteen  of  the 
Psalms,  and  twenty-three  chapters  of  Genesis  ;  and  com- 
monly now  read  two  cha})ters  in  the  time  above  mention- 
ed, tracing  every  word  to  its  original,  \ui folding  every 
verbal  difliculty. — But  enough  :  I  know  to  \n  bom  I  write. 


1772 — 1774.]       TO  HIS  marriage.  6S 

I  am  sensible  that  these  thmgs  will  give  you  some  plea- 
sure in  the  perusal^  and  that  you  will  overlook  any  spice 
of  vanity  which  may  appear.'' 

What  were  the  writer's  more  mature  sentiments  on 
the  view  above  taken  of  the  sermon  on  the  mount  may 
seem  in  his  commentary^  particularly  on  Matt.  vii. 
24 — ^27.  He  there  remarks  ;  "  Most  certainly,  the  un- 
changeable God  never  meant  to  recommend  one   part  of 

his  revealed  will,  by  disparaging  another This 

sermon,  doubtless,  contains  the  grand  outlines  of  Chris- 
tian practice,  and  none  who,  on  Christian  principles,  ob- 
serve to  do  according  to  it,  will  come  short  of  salvation. 
But  Christian  principles,  or  doctrines,  must  be  learned 
from  other  parts  of  the  sacred  oracles." 

In  another  letter,  about  three  months  afterwards,  he 
says  :  "  The  Giver  of  every  good  gift  has  made  my  in- 
terest, my  pleasure,  and  my  duty,  as  it  were,  all  depend- 
ent on  one  another.  My  pursuits  of  the  advantages  of 
life,  and  of  credit,  are  thrown  into  such  a  channel,  that, 
while  they  form  my  highest  gratification,  they  best  pro- 
mote that  more  important  business  I  am  upon ;  and  will 
succeed  or  fail  in  proportion  as  I  do  my  duty,  and  contri- 
bute my  share  towards  the  good  of  mankind." 

From  this  extract  it  appears,  that  he  was  not  so  im- 
mersed in  his  literary  pursuits,  as  altogether  to  forget 
"  that  more  important  business,"  which  claimed  his  at- 
tention as  a  parochial  minister.  And  repeated  proofs  oc- 
cur, even  from  the  first,  of  what  many,  at  least,  would 
esteem  considerable  professional  diligence  ;  though  he 
was  as  yet  very  much  a  stranger  to  the  right  means  of 
promoting  the  spiritual  interests  of  men,  and  to  the  true 
spring  of  a  christian  minister's  activity  ;*  and  though,  in 
his  '  Force  of  Truth,'  he  will  only  give  himself  credit, 
*  See  2  Cor.  v.  14,  15. 
I 


66  FROM  HIS  ORDINATION  [ChAP.    111. 

for  hnving  "  attended  just  enough  to  the  public  duties  of 
his  station,  to  support  a  decent  character/'  which  he 
deemed  "  subservient  to  his  main  design." 

Previously,  however,  to  addiicing  any  of  the  proofs  re- 
ferred to,  we  may  advert  to  the  report  which  he  makes 
of  tlie  state  of  the  country  iiito  which  he  had  now  re- 
moved, and,  in  particular,  of  his  own  parishes.  It  is, 
upon  the  whole,  very  unfavoiirable.  ••  The  country/' 
he  says,  '^  is  pleasant ;  the  villages  large  and  popidous ; 
but  the  people  poor,*"  ignorant,  and  idle.  Half  of  them 
have  little  more  knowledge,  save  the  art  of  lace-making, 
than  they  were  born  with.  There  are  no  schools  any 
where  for  the  poor  :  and  they  have  no  means  of  in- 
struction but  at  church,  where  the  greater  part  never 
come. ■* — The  latter  clause  applies  especially  to  Stoke, 
the  inhabitants  of  which  parish  he  estimates  at  seven  or 
eight  hundred. — Of  their  religion  he  says,  "  Those  that 
have  any  are  almost  all  methodisis  and  fanatics,  of  one  sort  of 
other  ;  and  for  my  part  I  regard  them  as  the  best  portion 
of  my  parish,  for  any  religion  must  be  better  than  none." 
— His  other  parish  of  Weston,  he  thought,  "  afforded  a 
better  prospect,''  and  appeared,  "  more  regular  and  re- 
ligious.'' ^'  The  greater  part,  indeed,  were  Roman  ca- 
tholics, i^.nd  many  methodists  :  however,"  he  says, 
"  they  all  seem  to  be  of  sotne  religion,  and  I  have  my  re- 
gular congregation  as  constantly  as  I  go Taking  the 

whole  coiuitry,  I  think  it  remarkably  poor  and  ignorant ; 
though  within  fifty  miles  of  the  metropolis  of  the  most 
polished  country  in  the  world  :  but  yet  what  part  of  the 
world  is  it,  in  which  one  meets  not  with  sensible  and 
agreeable  people  ?" 


*  He  notes  Is.  6d.  a  clay,  without  meat,  as  the  highest  wattes 
in  harvest  time. 


1772 — 1774.]         TO  HIS  marriagk.  67 

Such  was  the  scene  of  service  first  assigned  to  my  fa- 
ther as  a  clergyman,  and  nearly  such  that  in  which  he 
spent  the  first  thirteen  years  of  his  ministerial  life.  I 
now  present  those  traces  which  remain  of  his  earlier  la- 
bours in  it. 

From  the  first,  the  pains  he  took  in  preparation  for  the 
pulpit  appear  to  have  been  exemplary.  In  his  first  let- 
ter from  Stoke,  in  October,  1772,  he  says,  "  Sermons  I 
write  two  a  week :''  and  again,  half  a  year  afterwards, 
^'  I  have  no  spare  time,  having  written  full  seven  sermons, 
each  thirty -five  minutes  long,  in  the  three  weeks  since 
my  return  from  London," — where  he  had  taken  priest's 
orders.  Such  diligence  appears  to  have  been  a  sort  of 
elementary  ingredient  of  his  character,  and  certainly  it 
gave  a  promise  of  his  future  success.  May  it  not  also 
suggest  a  salutary  admonition  to  many,  who,  it  may  be 
hoped,  ate  actuated  by  purer  principles  than  at  that  time 
influenced  the  subject  of  these  memoirs  ?  Their  views, 
be  it  supposed,  are  more  elevated,  but  do  they  call  forth 
even  equal  exertions  ? 

In  the  same  letter  he  laments,  that,  "  after  preaching 
two  of  the  most  forcible  discourses  in  his  power,''  he  had 
been  able  to  collect  only  '''  tw  enty-six  or  twenty-seven 
communicants."  And  in  another  letter,  of  rather  earlier 
date,  he  says,  "  Whether  I  shall  be  able  to  make  any  re- 
formation among  my  parishioners,  I  much  doubt ;  but  I 
tell  them  their  duty  pretty  freely." 

As  we  proceed  forward,  I  trust,  we  find  the  desire  of 
doing  good  gradually  gathering  strength. — It  may  be  re- 
marked that  my  father  quitted  his  residence  at  Stoke  in 
November,  1773,  and  lodged  at  Weston  from  that  time 
till  his  marriage,  somewhat  more  than  a  year  afterwards. 
— From  Weston  he  writes,  January  5,  1774,  "  I  wonder 
at  people  thinking  they  cannot  do  good.     Tlie  circle  that 


68  FROM  ms  OHDINATION  [ChAF.  IIL 

I  move  in  at  present  is  so  contracted,  tliat  the  circumfe- 
rence almost  touches  the  centre ;  yet  I  should  belie  my 
own  heart,  should  I  say  that  I  never  had  it  in  my  power 
to  do  good.  I  hope  (for  God  alone  knows  the  heart,)  that 
I  really  have  been  instrumental,  in  my  calling,  towards 
instilling  better  principles  into  the  minds  of  some  of  my 
flock.  This,  at  least,  is  my  desire  :  from  this  I  promise 
myself  present  satisfaction,  and  something  in  future  of 
more  consequence.  Since  I  have  got  to  Weston,  I  have 
made  a  point  of  reading  prayers  on  the  festivals,  though 
I  have  nothing  allowed  for  it.  The  parish  are  in  great 
part  Roman  catholics,  and  I  would  not  have  it  said,  that 
theij  have  all  the  religion.  Where  the  piety  is  rational, 
and  free  from  the    superstition  we  expressly  blame,  I 

would  shew  them,  that  we  do  not  disregard  it A 

very  pretty  congregation  comes  constantly  to  church,  and 
I  do  not  grudge  my  trouble.  I  would  also  read  prayers 
on  Wednesday  and  Friday ;  but  I  might,  by  carrying  it 
too  far,  and  too  hastily,  do  less  good."' 

The  last  extract  which  I  shall  introduce,  is  dated  a  year 
later,  at  Stoke,  whither  he  had  returned  on  his  marriage. 
— "  Saturday  evening  is  appropriated  to  catechizing  the 
children  of  the  parish,  who  come  in  great  numbei^  for 
instruction.  There  are  therefore  but  five  other  evenings, 
and  it  is  a  retired  week  indeed,  if  one  of  them  be  not  en- 
gaged. Now  in  this  time'' — the  evenings,  for  his  morn- 
ings were  otherwise  occupied — "  the  plan  I  have  laid 
down  requires  me  to  compose  or  transcribe  two  sermons, 
almost  constantly 

"  Stoke  is  an  ignorant,  and  for  that  reason  a  wicked 
place.  I  would  wish  to  do  something  to  remove  both 
the  cause  and  the  effect.  They  are  also  as  poor  as  they 
are  ignorant  and  bad.  Now,  assisting  their  bodily  wants 
is  the  best  means  to  prepare  the  way  for  assisting  their 


1772 1774.]  TO  HIS  MARRIAGE.  69 

Other  wants.  But  my  station  in  life  prevents  my  doing 
much  in  that  on  my  own  account.  But,  by  means  of  my 
intimacy  at  Mr.  Wrighte's,  I  am  not  totally  destitute  of 
opportunity.  When  any  person  is  sick,  I  make  it  my 
business  to  visit  him,  both  in  my  pastoral  function,  and 
as  a  friend,  to  inquire  into  his  disorder  and  circumstances: 
which  done  I  represent  the  case  to  Mrs.  W.,  who  has 
not  hitherto  failed  to  consider  one  so  represented.  This 
prepares  the  way  for  good  advice  and  instruction,  (which 
I  do  not  withhold,)  and  also  renders  others  more  willing 
to  attend  to  me. — A  parcel  of  little  books  on  various 
plain  practical  subjects  had  lain  at  Mr.  W's  some  time.  I 
begged  to  have  the  disposal  of  them,  and,  having  given 
some  away,  I  told  the  receivers  to  send  any  other  persons 
to  me  who  wished  for  like  tracts.  I  soon  had  customers 
enough,  and  distributed  a  considerable  number  about  the 
parish.  I  intend  to  make  broad  hints  for  some  more. — 
Next  I  have  undertaken  to  explain  the  catechism  in  a 
course  of  sermons,  and  also  to  expound  it  in  a  more  summary 
manner  to  the  children,  who  attend  for  this  purpose  ;  be- 
ing persuaded  that  as  much  good  may  be  done  in  forming 
the  minds  of  youth,  and  instilling  into  them  moral  and 
religious  truth,  as  in  preaching  to  the  more  advanced  in 

years This  is  the  plan  I  have  laid  :  and  to  execute 

it  to  my  own  satisfaction  engrosses  no  small  proportion  of 

my  time  and  attention.     I  do  not  suppose ,  when  he 

returns,  will  like  me  the  better  for  the  care  I  take  :  but, 
as  I  do  what  I  consider  my  duty,  I  am  no  ways  anxious 

about  it At  the  present,  I  am  entirely  satisfied  with 

my  lot,  and  my  portion  of  enjoyment ;  and  my  religion 
bids  me  not  be  solicitous  about  futurity." 

But  we  have  here  outstripped  the  regular  course 
of  events,  and  must  return  to  occurrences,  some,  at 
least,  of  which  contributed  to  the  improvement,  pretty 


70  1  ROM   HIS  ORDINA  riON  [ClIAP.   III. 

clearly  indicated   by  this  extract  to  have  taken  place  in 
his  ministerial  character. 

In  June,  1773^  he  lost  a  sister  who,  by  her  marriage, 
had  been  placed  in  not  a  very  fiivourable  situation.  This 
event  a])pears  to  have  affected  him  very  much.  He  thus 
speaks  of  it  in  his  reply  to  his  elder  sister,  who  had  com- 
municated the  information  to  liim  : 

"  To  describe  to  you  the  emotions  of  my  mind,  on  the 
receipt  of  your  letter,  the  mixed  passions  and  feelings 
with  which  reflection  furnished  me,  would  require  more 
art  than  my  pen  possesses.  A  tenderness  inseparable 
from  affection  arose,  and  over  and  over  I  read  your  letter, 
and  as  oft  bedewed  it  with  tears  ;  not  of  unmixed  sorrow* 
but  of  a  tender  regret,  mollified  with  some  not  unpleasing 
reflections  :  yet  the  damp  that  it  has  cast  on  my  spirits, 
will  require  time  and  reason  to  dissipate  it.  The  situa- 
tion in  which  I  was  placed  during  the  younger  part  of  my 
life  made  me,  till  w  ithin  these  few  years,  love  her  the  best 
of  all  my  brothei^  and  sisters.  Neither  have  I  ever  ex- 
perienced a  diminution  of  that  affection  :  only,  as  my 
judgment  increased,  with  it  my  regard  for  the  other 
branches  of  the  family  wonderfully  increased  also. — Sin- 
cerely I  thank  you,  dear  sister,  for  what  you  said  in  re- 
gard to  my  going  to  see  her,  (when  in  Lincolnshire,) 
which  flxed  my  wavering  resolution  :  had  I  not  gone,  an 
almost  incurable  stab  had  been  given  to  my  peace.'' 

He  expresses  a  purpose  to  take  upon  him  the  education 
of  her  younger  son,  to  whom  he  was  god-father.  He 
considered  this  as  a  duty  incumbent  upon  him.  "  Now 
it  has  pleased  God,''  he  says,  "  to  take  the  only  parent, 
who  was  at  all  likely  to  supersede  my  care,  it  certainly 
belongs  to  me,  to  see  that  he  be  instructed  in  those  things, 
which  I  promised  in  his  name,  as  soon  as  he  is  capable 
ef  learning  them.'' — Accordingly   he  some  time  after- 


X772^ — 1774.]  TO  his  marriage.  71 

wards  received  this  nephew  into  his  family ;  and,  scanty 
as  his  own  means  were,  supported  him,  till  a  proper  age 
he  bound  him  apprentice  to  the  business  of  a  grocer, 
which  he  still  follows  in  London. 

The  next  incident  recorded  in  the  narrative  appears 
to  have  taken  place  about  the  same  period. 

'*  While  I  resided  at  Stoke,  the  brother  of  the  person 
with  whom  I  boarded,  an  apothecary  at  Olney,  often  cal- 
led ;  and,  finding  me  conversible,  discussed  with  me  a 
variety  of  subjects.  Among  the  rest,  he  mentioned  Mr. 
Newton,  as  a  very  singular  character.'' — It  can  hardly  be 
needful  to  say,  that  this  was  the  Rev.  John  Newton,  then 
curate  of  Olney,  afterwards  rector  of  St.  Mary  Woolnoth, 
London.  His  name  stands  blank  (Mr. )  in  the  edi- 
tions of  the  '  Force  of  Truth'  which  have  hitherto  been 
published.  He  had  been  curate  of  Olney  since  his  ordi- 
nation in  1764. — ''  He  gave  Mr.  N.  full  credit  for  blame- 
less and  benevolent  conduct,  and  for  diligence  as  a  minis- 
ter :  but  he  was  ^a  methodist  and  an  enthusiast  to  a 
very  high  degree.'  '  I  cannot,'  said  the  apothecary, 
'  tell  what  judgment  to  form  of  his  preaching  ;  it  is  like 
nothing  which  I  ever  heard  :  I  wish  you  would  come 
and  hear  him,  and  give  me  your  opinion.  He  preaches 
on  a  Thursday  evening  :  come  and  dine  with  me* 
and  we  will  go  to  church  together.'  This  was  accord- 
ingly settled  and  executed.  I  sat  fronting  the  pul- 
pit, and  verily  thought  Mr.  N.  looked  full  on  me  when 
he  came  into  the  desk  :  and,  when  he  named  his 
text,  to  my  great  astonishment  it  was  this.  Then  Saulj 
(who  also  is  called  Paul^J  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost , 
set  his  eyes  on  him^  and  said,  0  full  of  all  subtlety  and 
all  mischiefs  thou  child  of  the  devil ,  thou  eneiny  of  all 
righteousness  J  wilt  thou  not  cease  to  pervert  the  right 
imys  of  the  Lord!  (Acts  xiii.  9,  10.)     As  I  knew  that 


72  FROM  HIS  ORDINATION.  [ChAP.  III. 

he  preached  extempor(\  I  took  it  for  granted  that  he 
had  chosen  the  text  purposely  on  my  account.  He 
observed,  indeed,  that  ministers  in  the  present  day, 
not  being  under  any  immediate  or  infallible  influence 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  ought  not  to  imitate  the  decided 
and  severe  language  of  the  apostle  :  and  he  then 
undertook  to  shew  what  were  the  right  ways  of  the 
Lord,  and  to  point  out  the  wickedness  and  danger  of  per- 
sisting in  endeavours  to  pervert  or  oppose  them.  But  I 
thought  his  doctrine  al)struse,  immaginative,  and  irration- 
al ;  and  his  manner  uncouth  ;  and  the  impression,  that, 
though  Elimas  was  named,  I  was  intended,  abode  with  me 
for  a  long  time  ;  nor  was  it  wholly  eflfaced  till  I  discover- 
ed, some  years  afterwards,  that  he  was  regularly  expound- 
ing the  Acts  of  the  Apostle,  and  that  this  passage  came 
in  course  that  evening  ;  and  that,  in  fact,  he  neither  saw 
nor  thought  of  me.  The  idea,  however,  that  I  was  aimed 
at,  neither  alarmed  nor  irritated  me  :  but,  at  first,  served 
me  as  a  subject  of  merriment ;  and,  afterwards,  when  I 
knew  him  better,  but  had  not  yet  obtained  the  just  expla- 
nation of  the  case,  it  appeared  to  me  unaccountable.  Yet, 
alas !  at  that  time,  the  passage  w\as  but  too  appropriate 
to  my  character  and  conduct. — After  this  I  never  heard 
Mr.  N.  preach,  till  my  creed  accorded  with  his  in  all  the 
great  outlines." 

The  '  Force  of  Truth,'  however,  records  somewhat 
in  Mr.  N's  example,  which  soon  after  this  time  proved 
more  useful  to  my  father  than  his  preaching,  and  no  doubt 
essentially  conduced  to  that  increased  diligence  in  pastoral 
duties,  which  we  have  already  contemplated. 

<^  In  January,  1774,"  he  there  states,  "  two  of  my  pa- 
rishioners, a  man  and  his  wife,  lay  at  the  point  of  death. 
I  had  heard  of  the  circumstance  :  but,  according  to  my 
general  custom,  not  being  sent  for.  I  took  no  notice  of  it ; 


1772 1774.]  TO  HIS  MARRIAGE.  73 

till  one  evening,  the  woman  being  now  dead,  and  the 
man  dying,   I  heard  that  my  neighbour,  Mr.  N.,  had 
been  several  times  to  visit  them.     Immediately  my  con- 
science reproached  me  with  being  shamefully  negligent, 
in  sitting  at  home,  within  a  few  doors  of  dying  persons, 
my  general  hearers,  and  never  going  to  visit  them.     Di- 
rectly it  occurred  to  me^  that,  whatever  contempt  I  might 
have  for  Mr.  N.'s  doctrines,  I  must  acknowledge  his  prac- 
tice to  be  more  consistent  with  the  ministerial  character 
than  my  own.     He  must  have  more  zeal  and  love  for 
souls  than  I  had,  or  he  would  not  have  walked  so  far  to 
visit  and  supply  my  lack  of  care  to  those,  who,  as  far  as  I 
was  concerned,  might  have  been  left  to  perish  in  their 
sins. — This  reflection  affected  me  so  much,  that,  without 
delay,  and  very  earnestly,  yea  with  tears,  I  besought  the 
Lord  to  forgive  my  past  neglect ;  and  I  resolved  thence- 
forth to  be  more  attentive  to  this  duty  :  which  resolution, 
though  at  first  formed  in  ignorant  dependence  on  my  own 
strength,  I  have,  by  divine  grace,  been  enabled  hitherto 
to  keep. — I  went  immediately  to  visit  the  survivor  :  and 
the  affecting  sight  of  one  person  already  dead,  and  ano- 
ther expiring  in  the  same  chamber,  served  more  deeply 
to  impress  my  serious  convictions  :  so  that  from  that  time 
I  have  constantly  visited  the  sick  of  my  parishes,  as  far 
as  I  have  had  opportunity,  and  have  endeavoured,  to  the 
best  of  my  knowledge,  to  perform  that  essential  part  of 
a  parish  minister's  duty.'' 

This  occurred  at  Weston,  where  my  father  then  re- 
sided ;  and  from  a  letter  written  at  the  same  time  it  ap- 
pears, that  the  man  and  his  wife  referred  to,  having  lived 
forty -four  years  together,  were  both  buried  at  once  in 
the  same  2:rave. — We  return  to  the  narrative. 

"  As  curate  of  Weston  Underwood  I  became  acquaint- 
ed with  the  family  of  the  Higgins'  ;   from  whom  I  re- 

K 


74  FROM  HIS  ORDINATIOX  [ChAP.  III. 

ceivcd  many  favours  as  long  as  I  held  that  curacy.  Bar- 
tholomew Higgins,  Esq.  senior,  was  the  friend  mention- 
ed in  the  *  Force  of  Truth,'  who  induced  me  to  read  the 
conclusion  of  Bishop  Burnett's  Histt#y  •  of  his  Own 
Time.  He  also  expressed  dissatisfaction  with  my  gene- 
ral do(*trine,  as  not  sufliciently  evangelical ;  and  he  inti- 
mated topics  on  which  he  wished  me  to  speak  more  fully. 
But,  when  afterwards  Ibecame  more  thoroughly  in  ear- 
nest in  applying  evangelical  truth  to  practical  purposes, 
lie  thought  I  went  too  far ;  especially  when  I  advanced 
the  sentiments  called  Calvinistic.  But  this  subject  will 
again  come  under  notice  more  regularly  hereafter.'' 

This  perusal  of  that  part  of  Burnett's  history,  which 
relates  to  the  clergy,  was  attended  with  important  effects, 
which  the  '  Force  of  Truth'  thus  explains :  '*  I  was 
considerably  instructed  and  impressed  by  it :  I  was 
convinced  that  my  entrance  into  the  ministry  had  been 
the  result  of  very  wrong  motives;  was  preceded  by 
a  very  unsuitable  preparation,  and  accompanied  with 
very  improper  conduct.  Some  uneasiness  was  also  ex- 
cited in  my  mind  concerning  my  neglect  of  the  impor- 
tant duties  of  that  high  calling ;  and,  though  I  was  en- 
slaved of  sin,  and  too  much  engaged  in  other  studies, 
and  in  love  with  this  present  world,  to  relinquish  my  flat- 
tering pursuit  of  reputation  and  preferment,  and  to 
change  the  course  of  my  life,  studies,  and  employments  ; 
yet  by  intervals  I  experienced  desires  and  purposes,  at 
some  future  period  to  devote  myself  wholly  to  the  work 
of  the  ministry,  in  the  maimer  to  which  he  exhorts  the 
clergy At  this  time  I  lived  without  any  secret  re- 
ligion   My  convictions,"   however,    "  would  no 

longer  be  silenced  or  appeased"  ....  and,  '^  I  was  ena- 
bled to  enter  upon  a  form  of  devotion.  F^ormal  enough 
indeed  it  was  in  some  respects,  for  I  neither  knew  that 


1772 — 1774.]         TO  HIS  marriage.  75 

Mediator  through  whom,  nor  that  Spirit  by  whom, 
prayers  are  offered  up  with  acceptance  unto  the  Fa- 
ther. Yet,  though  utterly  in  the  dark  as  to  the  true 
and  living  way  to  the  throne  of  Grace,  I  am  persua- 
ded there  were  even  then  seasons,  when  I  was  ena- 
bled to  rise  above  a  mere  form,  and  to  offer  petitions  so 
far  spiritual  as  to  be  accepted  and  answered." 

Thus  was  my  father's  mind  evidently  moving,  even  at 
this  time,  towards  that  happy  consummation  at  which  it 
at  length  arrived  ;  and  thus  did  a  succession  of  ap- 
parently accidental  circumstances  conspire  to  advance 
his  progress.  But  for  the  present  our  attention  is  called 
to  another  subject,  thus  introduced  in  his  narrative. 

"  All  my   views  of  advancing  myself  in  the  world 
seemed  to  require,  that  I  should  for  some  time,  at  least, 
live  unmarried  :  but  I  had  always  resolved,  and  avowed 
my  resolution,  to  marry  as  soon  as  I  should  have  the  pros- 
pect of  maintaining  a  family  :  and  no  ambitious  projects 
altered  that  purpose.     After  many  merciful  disappoint- 
ments, as  I  have  since  known  them  to  be,  I  became  ac- 
quainted  with  Mrs.   Jane  Kell — whom  I  first  met  at  a 
christening,  and  won  her  money  at  cards  !   She  was  of  a 
family  in  reputable  circumstances  at  Hexham,  in  Nor- 
thumberland :"  but  her  father,   having  never  profited 
by  the  vdse  man's  admonition.  He  that  hateth  suretyship 
is  sure,  impoverished  himself  to  pay  other  men's  debts  ; 
and  his  daughter  Jane,   "  having   acquired  competent^ 
skill  in  various  departments,    entered,  at  an  early  age, 
into  the  service  of  Lady  Ann  Jekyll.     She  was  now  Mrs. 
Wrighte's  house-keeper,  and  had  continued  so  long  in 
the  family,  with  high  approbation,  that  she  was  respect- 
ed almost  as  a  relative.     On  every  conversation  I  had 
with  her  she  rose  in  my  esteem  ;  and,  after  rather  more 
hesitation  than  was  usual  with  me,   I  opened  my  mind  to 


76  FKOM  HIS  ORDINATION  [ChAP.  III. 

her  ])y  lctt<"i>  which  at  first  produced  sonic  rather  sin- 
gular incidents  :  l)ut  at  length  terminated  in  our  marri- 
age, Dccmber  5,  1774.'' 

I  shall  here  take  the  liberty  of  saying,  that,  though 
my  dear  mother  was  not  found  in  an  elevated  stiition,  she 
was,  throughout  life,  and  in  all  circumstances  in  which 
she  ever  was  placed,  a  "  help  meet''  for  him  to  whom 
she  was  united.  She  was  one  of  those  thoroughly  pru- 
dent, disinterested,  friendly,  cheerful,  and  kind  persons^ 
who  conciliate  the  esteem  of  all  that  converse  with  them, 
whether  superiors,  inferiors,  or  equals.  After  all  the 
abatements  which  it  may  be  thought  requisite  to  make 
in  the  report  of  an  admirer,  I  believe  there  was  much 
justice  in  the  account  which  my  father  gave  of  her  to  his 
sister,  Jidy  20,  1774  :  -^  Whom  nature  has  blessed  with  a 
variety  of  her  choicest  gifts, — sense,  prudence,  sensibility : 
who  has  had  many  advantages  of  education,  has  read 
much,  and  is  fit  to  appear  with  credit  in  any  compauy  : 
who  has  a  heart  fraught  with  the  most  virtuous  and  generous 
sentiments,  and  has  given  such  proofs  of  it,  as  are  fully 
conclusive,  and  which,  coming  to  my  knowledge  by  such 
means  as  contain  something  of  the  marvellous,  cannot  be 
disputed.  No  woman  in  the  world  is  better  adapted  for 
the  management  of  a  family." 

One  of  the  proofs  of  generosity  refered  to  was  her  de- 
clining my  father's  first  proposals,  though  perfectly 
agreeable  to  her,  because  she  believed  the  connexion 
would  be  "  disadvantageous  to  him.  This  he  learned 
directly  from  Mrs.  Wrighte,  without  Mrs.  Ws.  being 
able,  either  previously,  or  at  the  time  she  told  him  the 
fact,  to  divine  who  was  the  person  that  had  been  refused. 

I  possess  one,  and  only  one  letter  of  her  writing, — 
the  first  to  which  she  subscribed  her  newly-acquired 
name  :  and,  as  it  presents  a  glimpse  of  the  Lincolnshire 


1772 — 1774.]  TO  HIS  marriage.  77 

family,  viewed,  it  must  be  confessed,  under  favourable 
circumstances,  and  will  at  least  exhibit  the  amiable  temper 
of  the  writer's  mind,  I  shall  venture  to  insert  a  part  of  it. 

"  Braytoft,  December  13,  1774. — My  dear  Mother, 
let  me  once  more  intreat  the  favour  of  your  intercession 
to  our  heavenly  Father,  for  the  continuance  of  happiness 
to  your  now  happy  daughter.  You  are  already  informed, 
that  Monday  the  fifth  gave  you  a  son  and  me  a  husband, 
of  whose  goodness  I  could  say  more  than  my  paper  will 
hold  :  so  I  shall  cut  it  short,  by  assuring  you  he  is  every 
thing  that  I  wish.  My  dear  friend  has  likewise  told  you 
that  we  are  now  in  Lincolnshire,  and  at  present  in  the 
house  with  his  worthy  father  and  mother.  What  would 
I  give  for  a  head  and  a  pen  equal  to  the  task  of  descri- 
bing to  you  this  agreeable  pair,  and  their  worthy  chil- 
dren. Indeed  it  is  comfortable  to  see  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Scott  set  round  by  their  sons  and  daughters  and  grand, 
children,  all  equally  sensible  and  good. . . .  They  really 
treat  me  in  a  manner  as  if  their  son,  brother,  or  nephew 
had  married  a  person  equal  in  fortune  to  his  merits. 
God  grant  that  I  may  continue  deserving  of  their  kind- 
ness and  relationship  ! .  . . .  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wrighte  accom- 
panied me  to  church — though  it  was  the  first  time  of  her 
being  out  to  walk  after  a  long  and  dangerous  illness  :  and 
Mr.  W.  gave  me  away*. . .  I  am  in  every  respect,  your 
dutiful  and  affectionate  daughter,  J.  Scott. 

.   ''  This  is  the  first  time  I  have  made  use  of  this  res- 
pectable name.'' 

The  next  thing  which  occurs  in  my  father's  narrative, 
after  the  mention  of  his  marriage,  is  a  statement  of  his 
finances  and  prospects  at  the  time.  After  some  demur, 
I  have  determined  to  allow  him  unreservedly  to  lay  this 

*  Mr.  and  Mrs.  W.  also  stood  sponsors  for  her  elder  children. 


78  I  KOM  HIS  ORDINATION  [ChAP.  III. 

al5«o,  and  other  passages  of  the  same  kind,  hefore  the 
reader,  because  they  both  ilhistrate  his  charaeter.  and 
tend  to  enforce  one  of  the  great  lessons  wliich  liis  history 
suggests — the  duty  and  safety  of  implicitly  trusting  in 
providence,  notwithstanding  a  provision  apparently  very 
inadequate,  while  w^e  devote  ourselves  to  the  duties  of 
our  station,  as  the  servants  of  God. 

"  What  my  wife  had  saved/'  he  says,  ^'  (which  might 
have  been  more  than  double  what  it  was,  had  not 
her  liberality,  especially  to  her  aged  mother^  deducted 
from  itj)  with  the  presents  she  received,  purchased  us 
sufficient  furniture.  My  income,  with  Busby's  Lectures 
once  in  three  yeai's,  amounted  to  nearly  60/.  I  had  also 
lately  been  engaged  by  Mr.  Wrighte,  to  teach  his  son 
the  first  rudiments  of  learning — going  over  to  his  house, 
at  three  miles  distance,  every  day  for  the  purpose  ;  for 
w  hich  he  paid  me  30/.  a  year  :  and  I  had  further  a  good 
prospect  of  receiving  a  few  pupils  into  my  house,  when 
settled.  So  that,  taking  into  account  the  comparative 
cheapness  of  living  at  that  time,  I  have  seldom  in  subse- 
quent years  had  a  fairer  prospect  of  adequate  support ; 
except  as  I  have  learned  to  trust  in  Him  for  temporal 
provision,  as  well  as  eternal  salvation,  who  clothes  the  li- 
lies and  feeds  the  bii^ds  of  the  air  :  of  which  I  at  that 
time  knew  little. 

"  The  union  thus  formed  proved  to  me,  in  all  respects, 
an  inexpressible  mercy.  Even  at  the  time  I  had  some 
confused  sense  of  the  goodness  of  God  in  it ;  and,  in  a 
poor  blind  way,  attempted  both  to  thank  him  for  it,  and 
to  purpose  devoting  myself  to  his  service  in  the  work  of 
the  ministry  :  though  I  then  scarcely  knew  any  thing  of 
that  sacred  service. 

"  So  far  was  the  step  I  had  taken  from  losing  me  any 
favour  with   my  former  friends,  as  I  had  previously  ap- 


1772 — 1774.]         TO  HIS  marriage.  79 

prehended  it  might,  that  it  seemed  to  raise  me  in  their  es- 
timation, for  having,  as  they  expressed  it,  the  good  sense 
to  discern  and  vahie  what  was  highly  estimable  in  one 
situate  as  my  wife  had  been  :  and,  had  no  material  change 
taken  place  in  my  religious  sentiments  and  conduct,  I  am 
persuaded  I  should  have  met  with  steady  encouragement 
in  my  plans.  Mr.  Wrighte  especially,  with  manifest 
cordiality,  took  vigorous  measures  to  procure  me  a  living : 
and  as  he  had,  in  previously  disposing  of  some  prefer- 
ments in  his  gift,  obliged  more  than  one  of  the  superior 
clergy,  he  entertained  no  doubt  of  success. 

"  Neither  my  wife  nor  myself  had  been  much  in  the 
way  of  religious  people,  according  to  my  present  inter- 
pretation of  that  term  ;  neither  of  us  understood  the 
grand  outlines  of  the  gospel ;  yet  we  were  both  impress- 
ed with  a  strong  sense  of  the  truth  and  importance  of  the 
Christian  religion,  in  a  general  view  of  it :  but  her  im- 
pressions were  the  deeper,  and  had  far  less,  from  false 
principles  and  evil  habits,  to  counteract  them.  Even 
before  we  were  fixed  in  a  settled  habitation,  the  thought 
seemed  to  occur  to  us  both,  almost  at  the  same  time,  that 
we  ought  to  pray  together ;  and  accordingly  I  read  some 
prayers  from  a  book  :  and  when,  with  a  female  servant, 
we  entered  on  a  temporary  dwelling  of  our  own,  I  im- 
mediately began  family  worship,  though  I  had  never 
lived  in  any  family  where  it  was  practised,  nor  even  been 
present  at  such  a  service,  except  once,  which  was  in  the 
house  of  a  dissenting  minister*. 

"  At  first  I  only  used  a  form  of  praeyr  from  a  manual 
belonging  to  my  wife.  After  a  little  time  I  read  a  chap- 
ter of  the  Bible  before  the  prayer  :  and,  as  my  views  of 
religion  gradually  improved,  I  aimed  at  something  more 

*  «  The  Rev.  Mr.  Bull,  of  Newport  Pagnell." 


80  I  ItOM  HIS  ORDINATION  [ClIAP.  III. 

evangelical,  and  exchanged  my  manual  for  Jenk's  Devo- 
tions. But.  had  I  duly  considered  the  sid)iect,  the  Com- 
mon Prayer  Book  oi'our  church,  with  a  little  arrangement, 
would  have  supplied  me  with  far  more  suitalde  words, 
than  any  book  of  the  kind  I  had  then  seen,  or  have  ever 
yet  seen.  Merely,  indeed,  to  read  the  common  prayer, 
as  appointed  for  public  woi^hip,  must,  in  general,  be 
both  inadequate,  inappropriate,  and  in  many  things  su- 
perfluous, to  a  family  :  but  a  selection  of  collects,  parts  of 
collects,  and  extracts  from  the  Litany,  varied  as  circum- 
stances should  require,  I  am  now  fully  convinced,  might 
be  rendered,  in  all  respects,  preferable  to  any  other  forms 
which  have  been  published. 

"  I  afterwards  wrote,  on  particular  occasions,  such 
prayers  as  I  thought  proper  to  be  added  to  the  form  : 
and,  at  length,  I  was  gradually  led  to  adopt  the  method 
of  extemporary  prayer,  which  1  judged,  and  do  still 
judge,  far  better  for  domestic  worship,  than  any  forms 
can  be  ;  both  as  admitting  of  adaj)tation  to  the  varying 
circumstances  of  families,  and  the  cases  of  friends  and  re- 
latives, to  be  remembered  in  our  prayers :  and  also  as  giving 
scope  to  more  enlargement  in  intercession  according  to 
occurring  events,  for  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men.  By 
degrees  also  I  proceeded  to  expound,  as  well  as  read  the 
scriptures  to  my  family. 

"  From  this  beginning,  I  do  not  know  that,  during 
more  than  thirty  eight  years,  the  daily  worship  of  God  in 
my  family,  morning  and  evening,  has  ever  been  inter- 
rupted, except  when  I  was  ill,  or  from  home  :  and,  in- 
deed, when  that  has  been  the  case,  some  one  of  my  house- 
hold has  generally  su])plied  my  place. 

"  On  this  I  look  back  with  peculiar  gi'atit\ule,  as  one 
grand  means  of  my  uncommon  measure  of  domestic  com- 
fort, and  of  bringing  down  on  my  children  the  blessings 


1772 1774.]  TO  HIS  MARRIAGE.  81 

which  God  has  graciously  bestowed  upon  them.  And, 
though  the  time  which  I  have  allotted  to  this  service  has 
been,  for  many  years,  far  longer  than  is  generally  deem- 
ed sufficient  or  expedient,  yet,  by  a  punctual  observance 
0f  an  appointed  hour,  and  the  adjustment  of  domestic  af- 
fairs to  the  plan,  as  known  and  invariable,  no  inconvenience 
worthy  of  notice  has  resulted  from  it.  Nor  have  I,  as 
many  complain  in  excuse  for  great  brevity,  found  my  do- 
mestics in  general  shew  symptoms  of  weariness  and  in- 
attention.— My  evening  worship  is  much  shorther  than 
that  of  the  morning ;  and  for  many  years  past  it  has  taken 
place,  in  all  ordinary  cases,  at  a  pretty  early  hour  ; 
which,  where  it  can  be  practised,  appears  much  prefera- 
ble.— In  numerous  instances  I  have  had  visitants,  espe- 
cially relatives,  to  whom  I  clearly  perceived  that  my  fa- 
mily worship  was  disagreeable ;  and  some  who  would  not 
so  much  as  by  a  change  of  posture  profess  to  join  in  our 
prayers  :  but  I  never  once  omitted  the  service,  or  altered 
the  method  of  it,  on  that  account ;  and  in  some  cases  the 
parties  have  been  softened  into  a  more  cordial  concurrence 
with  us.'' 

My  dear  father  having  here  dwelt  at  some  length  on 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  features  of  his  domestic  eco- 
nomy, it  may  be  advisable  to  despatch  the  subject,  in 
what  would  otherwise  have  been  a  premature  place  for 
its  introduction.  I  apprehend  no  reflecting  person  can 
have  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  being  repeatedly  present 
at  his  morning  family  worship,  without  being  forcibly 
struck  with  it.  His  expositions  on  these  occasions  fre- 
frequently  rose  above  what  any  written  comment  can  be 
expected  to  reach,  in  copiousness,  minute  application, 
spirit,  and  often  elevation  of  thought.  Many  times  I 
have  wished  that  his  picture  could  have  been  taken  while 
he  was  expounding  to  his  family.     I  have  never  seea  liis 

L 


82  FROM  HIS  ORUINATIOX.  [ChAP.   III. 

soul  more  thrown  into  his  couuntcnance  than  on  these  oc- 
casions.— Every  topic,  ahnost,  of  doctrine  or  duty  here 
came  successively  under  review,  as  he  passed  through 
the  scriptures,  particularly  the  New  Testament,  in  order ; 
ahd  the  very  familiarity  with  which  they  were   illustrat- 
ed, and  brought  down  to  all  the  occurrences  of  life,  made 
the  exposition  doubly  interesting  and  useful.     To  what 
passed  here,   I  am  disposed  especially  to  attribute  it? 
that  not  a  servant  could  spend  any  time  in  his  family,  and 
attf-nd  to  what  was  delivered,  without  becoming  better 
informed  in  Christian  doctrine,  and  better  instructed  in  the 
detail  of  the  duties  and  proprieties  of  life,  than  religious 
persons  in  a  much  superoir  station  are  usually  found  to 
be. — And  then  the  prayer,  which  followed,  was  certain- 
ly one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  "  supplication,  interces- 
sion, thanksgiving"  for  those  present  and  for  ^^all  men^" 
■  that  can  be  conceived.     Such  enlargement,  both  as  to 
the  subjects  and  the  matter  of  the  petitions,  I  have  not 
elsewhere  heard.     The  scripture,  which  had  been  read 
and  commented  upon,  usually  gave  the  direction  to  the 
former  part  of  this  act  of  devotion  :  and  here  he  had  by 
habit  and  meditation,  and  by  entering  at  the  time  into 
the  spirit  of  the  passage,  acquired  a  readiness  in  seizing 
every  part  of  it  in  all  its  bearings^  and  turning  it  into 
matter  of  supplication,  which  brought  it  again  under  re- 
view in  the  most  edifying  manner.     Whatever  was  pecu- 
liar  in  thfe  circumstances   of  any  persons  present,  was 
th^n  brought  before  "  the  throne  of  the  heavenly  grace,^^ 
in  a  manner  which  shewed  at  once  the  piety,  the  wisdom^ 
aild  the  benevolence  of  him  who  led  the  service,  and  often 
proved  afiecting,  never,  I  think,  painful  to  the  parties 
concerned.     From  those  present,  and  all  the  branches  of 
the  family,  with  their  immediate  connections  and  friends^ 
he  launched  forth  to  his  parishioner^  and  people  ;  to  tlic 


177^'— J774.]         TO  HIS  MARRIAGE.  8S 

various  congregations  and  divisions  of  ^^  Christ's  holy 
catholic  church ;''  to  all  "  the  ministers  of  God's  holy 
word  an4  sacraments/'  and  all  "  seminaries  of  learn- 
ing and  religious  education ;''  to  his  country  and  all  or- 
4er5  of  men  in  church  and  state, — specially  all  those 
^'  who  in  this  transitory  life,  are  in  trouble,  sorrow?  need, 
sickness,  or  any  other  adversity  ;"  to  the  surrounding  na- 
tions, with  particular  reference  to  passing  events ;  to  th^ 
extension  of  Christ's  kingdom  in  the  world ;  to  the  ^tat^ 
X)f  Jews,  heathens,  and  Mohammedans;  to  all  the  various 
exertions  now  making  to  instruct  the  ignorant,  to  reclaim 
the  vicious,  to  relieve  the  oppressed,  and  to  bring  on 
those  happy  days,  when  ''  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord 
shall  fill  the  earth  as  the  waters  covers  the  seas  ;"  and  so 
for  ^^the  whole  world  of  mankind."  His  petitions  relative 
to  these,  and  almost  every  other  topic  that  could  be  named, 
were  often  most  appropriate  and  striking, — while  he  im- 
plored and  pleaded  for  the  raising  up  in  all  nations  of 
"  kings  that  should  resemble  David,  and  Hezekiah,  and 
Josiah,  and  prove  reformers  of  their  people,  as  well  as 
nursing  fathers  of  the  church  ;  for  governors,  in  all  the 
distinct  provinces  of  our  own  and  other  empires,  disin- 
terested, zealous,  and  unimpeachable,  like  Daniel  and 
Nehemiah ;  for  bishops,  throughout  the  church,  like  Ti- 
mothy and  Titus." — -Indeed  the  subject  of  his  remarka- 
ble spirit  of  intercessory  prayer  must  hereafter  be  again 
adverted  to.  Here,  therefore,  I  would  conclude  with  re- 
marking upon  the  whole,  that  to  his  constant  and  edify- 
ing observance  of  family  worship,  in  connection  with  the 
steady,  consistent  spirit  and  conduct,  which,  notwith- 
standing imperfections  incident  to  human  nature,  they 
could  not  Ml  to  remark  in  him,  is,  I  am  persuaded,  very 
much  to  be  traced,  not  only  the  blessing  of  God  which,  I 
trust,  has  descended  on  his  own  family,  but  the  further 


84  FROM  HIS  ORDINATION,  6ni.       [ChAP.  111. 

Striking  and  important  fact, — that  in  very  few  instancse 
has  a  servant,  or  a  young  person,  or  indeed  any  person, 
passed  any  length  of  time  under  his  roof,  without  appear- 
ing to  be  brought  permanently  under  the  influence  of  re- 
ligious principle.  I  consider  him  as  having  been  singu- 
larly blessed  in  this  respect.  And  yet  it  was  not  much 
his  practice  to  address  himself  closely  and  minutely,  as 
some  have  done  with  very  good  effect,  to  such  persons 
individually.  It  was  not  so  much  by  preaching  directly 
to  them,  as  by  living  before  them  ;  making  an  edifying 
use  of  incidents  and  occasions ;  and  being  so  constantly 
instructive,  devout,  and  benevolent  in  family  worship  ; 
that,  under  the  blessing  of  God,  he  produced  so  striking 
an  impression  upon  them.  This  added  tenfold  force 
to  whatener  else  they  heard  from  him  in  his  public  minis- 
trations. 


1772 1774,]  CHANGE  OF  RELIGIOUS  VIEWS,.  85 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  GREAT  CHANGE  OF  HIS  RELIGIOUS  VIEWS. 

a  Within  a  few  months  after  my  marriage,  I  was  led 
unexpectedly  to  exchange  my  curacy  of  Stoke  for  that  of 
Ravenstone,  the  next  village.  This  was  done  at  the  in- 
stance of  the  vicar  of  the  latter  place,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Chap- 
man, an  unmarried  man,  seventy  years  of  age.  He  had 
hitherto  kept  no  curate,  but  had  occasionally  applied  to 
me  for  assistance  :  and  now,  as  he  wished  to  engage  one, 
and  I  was  at  this  time  reputable,  and  not  suspected  of 
^  methodism,'  he  offered  me  his  curacy,  with  a  salary  of 
40/.  a  year  ;  151.  more  than  I  received  for  Stoke.  The 
reason  of  his  change  of  plan  was  unknown  to  me  at  the 
time  ;  but  I  afterwards  fouijd  it  to  be  a  very  considera- 
ble accession  of  fortune,  which  had  come  to  him  in  rather 
a  singular  manner.  A  distant  relation,  a  retail  grocer  in 
London,  had,  by  saving  habits,  amassed  about  12,000/. 
On  the  approach  of  death,  he  sent  for  Mr.  Charles  Hig- 
gins,  (one  of  the  Weston  family,  and  afterwards  sherriff 
of  London,)  the  head  partner  in  the  wholesale  house  with 
which  he  had  dealt,  and  proposed  to  leave  the  whole  to 
him.  Mr.  H.,  being  a  man  of  much  generosity  of  mind, 
resolutely  refused  to  accept  it  :  and  urged  that  it  ought 
to  go  to  the  relations,  however  distant.  The  man,  how 
ever,  declared  that  he  would  die  intestate,  if  Mr.  H. 
would  not  become  his  heir  :  and  he  kept  his  word.     In 


Hb  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [ChAP.  iV, 

consequence,  after  engaging  in  some  litigation,  and  buy- 
ing off'  some  individuals  who  might  have  been  trouble- 
some, the  vicar  of  Ravenstone,  with  his»sister,  a  maiden 
lady,  still  more  advanced  in  age,  who  lived  with  him, 
inherited  the  whole  property.  On  the  proposition  which 
hi  made  to  me,  all  advance  of  salary  at  Stoke  being  de- 
clined, I  became  his  curate." 

My  father  removed  to  Ravenstone  soon  after  midsum- 
mer, 1773  ;  but  this  was  previously  to  his  becoming 
curate  of  the  parish. 

''  At  this  place,"  he  says,  ''  I  resided  about  two  years, 
and  it  proved,  as  it  were,  a  Bethel^  to  me.  Here  I 
read  the  scriptures  and  prayed.  Here  I  sought  and,  I 
trust,  found,  in  a  considerable  measure,  the  knowledge 
of  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus.  I  was  not  indeed  brought 
to  say  with  unwavering  voice,  as  Thomas  did  of  old,  M^ 
Lordy  and  my  God ;  but  I  learned  to  count  all  but  loss 
for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ.  Here 
first  I  made  the  instrument  of  bringing  several  persons 
earnestly  to  ask  the  all- important  question.  What  must 
I  do  to  be  saved?  and  here  I  learned,  in  some  degree, 
tO  give  the  scriptural  a^swer,  Believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  thou  shall  be  saved. ^^ 

Alluding  to  this  period,  he  observed  in  a  sermon 
preached  at  Aston,  June  25,  1818,  of  whjch  the  Rev. 
Daniel  Wilson  has  preserved  and  printed  some  memoran- 
dums :  ^*  It  is  above  forty  years  since  God  of  his  mercy 
brought  down  my  stubborn  heart  to  true  repentance. 
The  first  sermon  I  preached  afterwards  was  from  Gal.  \i. 
22,  But  the  Scripture  hath  concluded  all  under  sin, 
that  the  promise  by  faith  of  Jesus  Christ  might  be  given 
to  them  that  believe.     This  very  discourse  was  the  means 

*  Gen.  xxviii. 


1775-^17'76.]         RELIGIOUS  viiTWs.  ^7 

of  bringing  some  of  my  people  to  feel  their  danger,  and 
to  come  to  me  saying,  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ? 
when  I  hardly  knew  how  to  answer  the  question.  Begin, 
my  brethren,  and  continue  in  the  same  way.  Shew  the 
people  that  they  are  concluded  under  sin.  Tell  them 
plainly  of  their  lost  condition.  Till  they  feel  this,  no- 
thing is  done.  Then  Exhibit  to  them  the  promise  by 
faith  of  Jesus  Christ :  this  will  heal  the  broken  heart." 

He  proceeds  :  ^^  I  did  not  however,  in  my  own  case, 
enter  so  deeply  into  the  practical  use  of  the  truths  to 
which  I  acceded,  as  might  have  been  expected  ;  but,  in 
many  things  which  I  have  since  considered  as  wholly  in- 
defensible, I  conformed  to  the  world,  and,  by  so  doing, 
was,  in  great  measure,  sheltered  from  scorn  and  reproach. 
But  in  these  things  the  narrative  in  the  '  Force  of  Truth,^ 
from  April,  1775,  to  about  the  same  period  of  1777, 
must  be  referred  to. 

"  Here  likewise  my  two  eldest  children  were  born  : 
Anne,  who  died  at  the  age  of  four  years  and  a  half,  and 
of  whom  further  notice  will  be  hereafter  taken  ;  and  John, 
still  living.'' 

Soon  after  his  removal  to  Ravenstone,  we  find  him 
thus  anticipating  the  death  of  another  married  sister. 

^^  Though  I  was  somewhat  concerned  for  you,  yet  this 
was  all  absorbed  in  the  concern  I  have  always  felt  on  my 
poor  sister  Gibbon's  account,  whenever  I  have  thought  of 
her  since  I  received  your  letter.  I  can  never  reflect  on 
her  fate,  and  the  cause  of  it,  without  the  most  feeling  anx- 
iety. I  have  long  thought  of  writing  to  her,  but  have 
been  hindered  by  the  supposition  of  my  letter  finding 
her  departed  from  this  troublesome  scene.  .  .  .  May 
the  Almighty  supply  her  with  a  plentiful  portion  of  his 
graee,  <S:c.  .  .  .  This  most  sincere  and  earnest  prayer  J 
do  not  fail  daily  to  present  at  the  throne  of  grace. ^' 


88  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [ChAP.  IV. 

Ilaveiistoiie,  it  may  be  observed,  was  always  the  fa- 
vourite scene  of  my  fathers  ministerial  services.  Here 
.  he  enjoyed  greater  comfort,  and  here  more  visible  suc- 
cess attended  iiis  pastoral  labours,  in  proportion  to  the 
time  of  their  continuance,  than  in  any  subsequent  situa- 
tion. '^  Here,"  he  says,  in  another  part  of  the  narra- 
tive, which  may  more  conveniently  be  introduced  in  this 
place,  '^  a  considerable  number  of  persons,  who  had  pre- 
\  iously  been  ignorant  and  careless  about  religion,  became 
consistent  and  zealous  Cliristians  ;  and  a  general  serious- 
ness and  attention  were  excited,  beyond  any  thing  which 
I  have  since  witnessed.''  This  account,  however,  of  his 
usefulness  at  Ravenstonc,  takes  in  not  only  the  period  of 
his  residence  there,  but  that  also  of  his  subsequent  resi- 
dence at  Weston,  till  the  year  1781,  during  which  time 
he  retained  the  curacy  of  Ravenstone. 

The  progress  of  his  mind  at  the  important  period  which 
has  been  mentioned,  from  the  spring  of  the  year  1775  to 
that  of  1777,  is  so  amply,  and  in  so  satisfactory  a  man- 
ner, detailed  in  the  "  Force  of  Truth,'  that  I  should 
have  contented  myself,  as  he  has  done,  with  merely  re- 
ferring the  reader  to  that  work,  were  it  not  for  the  very 
interesting  additional  lights  which  his  letters  to  his  sisters, 
now  in  my  hands,  throw  on  certain  principal  points  of  the 
history.  For  the  sake  of  properly  introducing  them,  I 
shall  make  some  extracts  from  the  work  just  mentioned. 

"  It  was  at  this  time  that  my  correspondence  with  Mr. 
Newton  commenced.  At  a  visitation.  May,  1775,  we 
exchanged  a  few  words  on  a  controverted  subject,  in  the 
room  among  the  clergy,  which  I  believe  drew  many  eyes 
upon  us.  At  that  time  he  prudently  declined  the  dis- 
course, but  a  day  or  two  after  he  sent  me  a  short  note, 
with  a  little  book  for  my  perusal.  This  was  the  very 
thing  I  wanted,  and  I  gladly  embraced  the  opportunity, 


1775 — 1777.]  RELIGIOUS  views.  89 

which,  according  to  my  wishes,  seemed  now  to  offer ;- — 
God  knoweth,  with  no  inconsiderable  expectations,  that 
my  arguments  would  prove  irresistibly  convincing,  and 
that  I  should  have  the  honour  of  rescuing  a  well-meaning 
person  from  his  enthusiastical  delusions.  ...  I  wrote 
him  a  long  letter,  purposing  to  draw  from  him  such  avow- 
al and  explanation  of  his  sentiments,  as  might  introduce  a 
controversial  discussion  of  our  religious  differences.  The 
event  by  no  means  answered  my  expectation  :  he  return- 
ed a  very  friendly  and  long  answer  to  my  letter  ;  in  which 
he  carefully  avoided  the  mention  of  those  doctrines,  which 
he  knew  would  offend  me  :  he  declared,  that  he  believed 
me  to  be  one  who  feared  God,  and  was  under  the  teach- 
ing of  his  Holy  Spirit :  that  he  gladly  accepted  my  offer 
of  friendship,  and  was  no  ways  inclined  to  dictate  to  me ; 
but  that,  leaving  me  to  the  guidance  of  the  Lord,  he 
would  be  glad,  as  occasion  served,  from  time  to  time,  to 
bear  testimony  to  the  truths  of  the  gospel,  and  to  com- 
municate his  sentiments  to  me,  on  any  subject,  with  all 
the  confidence  of  friendship. 

"  In  this  manner  our  correspondence  began,  and  it 
was  continued,  iu  the  interchange  of  nine  or  ten  letters, 
until  December  the  same  year.  Throughout  I  held  my 
purpose,  and  he  his.  I  made  use  of  every  endeavour  to 
draw  him  into  controversy,  and  filled  my  letters  with  de- 
finitions, inquiries,  arguments,  objections,  and  conse- 
quences, requiring  explicit  answers.  He,  on  the  other 
hand,  shunned  every  thing  controversial,  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, and  filled  his  letters  with  the  most  useful,  and  least 
offensive  instructions  :  except  that  now  and  then  he  drop- 
ped hints  concerning  the  necessity,  the  true  nature,  and 
the  efficacy  of  faith,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  was  to 
be  sought,  and  obtained  ;  and  concerning  some  other  mat- 
ters, suited,  as  he  judged,  to  help  me  forward  in  my  in- 

M 


90  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [ChAP.  IV. 

quiry  alter  truth.  But  they  very  much  oHended  my  pre- 
judices, affordt'd  luc  matter  of  disputation,  aud  at  that 
time  were  of  little  iise  to  me.  .  .  .  When  I  could  not 
obtain  my  end,  at  my  instance  the  correspondence  was 
dropped  ;  .  .  .  .  and  our  acquaintance  was.  for  a  season, 
almost  wholly  broken  off.  For  a  long  time  we  seldom 
met,  and  then  only  interchanged  a  few  words  on  general 
topics  of  convei'sation.  .Yet  he  all  along  persevered  in 
telling  me,  to  my  no  small  offence,  that  I  should  accede 
one  day  to  his  religious  principles  ;  that  he  had  stood  on 
my  ground,  and  that  I  should  stand  on  his :  and  he  con- 
stantly infonned  his  friends,  that,  though  slowly,  I  was 
surely  feeling  my  way  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  So 
clearly  conld  he  discern  the  dawnings  of  grace  in  my  soiU, 
amidst  all  the  darkness  of  depraved  nature,  and  my  ob- 
stinate rebellion  against  the  will  of  God. — This  expecta- 
tion was  principally  grounded  on  my  conduct  in  the  fol- 
lowing circumstances.  Immediately  after  the  commence- 
ment of  our  correspondence,  in  May,  1775,  whilst  my 
thoughts  were  much  engrossed  by  some  hopes  of  prefer- 
ment; one  Sunday,  during  the  time  of  divine  service, 
when  the  psalm  was  named,  I  opened  the  prayer-book  to 
tnrn  to  it:  but  [accidentally,  shall  I  say,  ov providentially?) 
I  opened  upon  the  Articles  of  Religion  ;  and  the  eighth, 
respecting  the  authority  and  warrant  of  the  Athanasian 
creed,  immediately  engaged  my  attention.  My  disbelief 
of  the  doctrine  of  a  trinity  of  coequal  persons  in  the 
unity  of  the  Godhead,  and  my  pretensions  to  candour, 
both  combined  to  excite  my  hatred  to  this  creed  :  for 
which  reasons,  I  had  been  accustomed  to  speak  of  it  with 
contempt,  and  to  neglect  reading  it  officially.  No  sooner 
therefore  did  1  read  the  words,  *  That  it  was  to  be  tho- 
roughly received,  and  believed ;  for  that  it  might  be  prov- 
ed by  most  certain  warrants  of  holy  scripture  :'  than  my 


1775 — 1777.]         RELIGIOUS  views.  91 

mind  was  greatly  impressed  and  affected.  The  matter 
of  subscription  immediately  occurred  to  my  thoughts, 
and  from  that  moment  I  conceived  such  scruples  about  it, 
that,  till  my  view  of  the  whole  system  of  Christianity  was 
entirely  changed,  they  remained  insuperable.  ...  At 
length,  after  a  violent  conflict  between  interest  aud  con^ 
science,  I  made  known  to  my  patron  my  scruples,  and  my 
determination  not  to  subscribe.  Thus  my  views  of  pre- 
ferment were  deliberately  given  up,  and  with  an  increas- 
ing family  I  was  left,  as  far  as  mere  human  prudence 
could  discern,  with  little  other  prospect  than  that  of  po- 
verty and  distress.  My  objections  to  the  Articles  wercj^ 
as  I  now  see,  groundless ;  much  self-sufficiency,  under 
warmth  of  temper,  and  obstinacy,  were  betrayed  in  the 
management  of  this  affair,  for  which  I  ought  to  be  hum- 
bled. By  my  adherence  to  the  dictates  of  my  conscience, 
and  holding  fast  my  integrity  in  such  trying  circumstances, 
I  never  did,  and,  I  trust,  never  shall  repent." 

Letters  written  in  the  crisis  of  such  a  conflict,  which 
is  known  to  have  had  such  an  issue,  and  laying  open  the 
whole  soul  of  the  writer,  cannot  fail  to  interest  any  one,  who 
takes  pleasure  in  studying  the  workings  of  the  human 
mind,  and  the  operations  of  divine  grace  upon  the  heart. 
And  such  are  the  letters  which  I  now  proceed  to  lay  be- 
fore the  reader  :  only  premising,  that  Mr.  Newton's  cor- 
respondence with  my  father  commences  with  this  very 
question  of  subscription,  and  that,  from  a  passage  in 
the  manuscript  of  his  first  letter,  omitted  in  the  printed 
eopies,  it  appears,  that  my  father  had  informed  him  of 
his  having  published,  or  at  least  transmitted  for  publica- 
tion, the  paper  which  will  be  found  here  referred  to. 

The  following  is  an  extract  of  a  letter  from  my  father 
to  his  elder  sister  dated  at  Stoke,  July  12,  1775 — in  the 
interval  between  Mr.  N.'s  first  and  second  letters  to  him. 


92  CHANGE  ur  HIS  [Chap.  IV. 

^*  Botli  from  intbrniation  of  what  ])asses  around  me  and 
my  own  experience,  I  am  conv^inced  that  this  is  a  fluc- 
tuating scene  of  restless  agitation  :  and  that  the  only  way 
to  enjoy  any  tolerable  degree  of  comfort,  is  by  a  constant 
endeavour  to  keep  a  conscience  void  of  offence^  and  to 
attain  to  something  of  an  indifference  in  regard  to  this 
world,  fully  trusting  in  God,  that  he  will  make  all 
things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  fear  him,  and 

endeavour  before  all  things  to  obey  hini As  this  is 

written  to  one  that  knows  what  trouble  is,  ...  so  it  is 
written  h\j  one,  who,  among  blessings  which  he  has  re- 
ceived from  the  God  of  goodness^  has  also  experienced 
troubles,  and  does  so  yet ;  and  is  now  more  likely  than 
ever  to  meet  with  trials,  more  than  in  general  fall  to  the 

share  of  man We  should  learn  to  place  a  more 

jfirm  and  steady  dependence  on  the  wisdom  and  goodness 
of  our  heavenly  friend  and  father,  and  more  firmly  to 
believe  those  promises  he  has  made  us ;  so  as  not  to  be 
driven  from  our  confidence  in  the  day  of  trial  and 
gloomy  disappointment,  being  assured  that  he  will  never 
forsake  us,  if  we  forsake  not  him.  ...  As  Chistians  we 
should  remember  that  troubles  are  the  touchstones  of 
our  faith,  patience,  meekness^  and  resignation  ;  and,  if 
well  supported  J  will  work  for  us  a  more  exceeding  iveighf. 
of  glory.  ... 

"  I  now  turn  to  my  own  affairs.  I  had  rather  not 
speak  concerning  them  but  for  two  things  :  first,  lest  you 
should  hear  of  them  from  others  ;  and,  second,  lest  you 
should  think  I  had  not  that  confidence  in  you  that  I  have 
in  others.  I  know  I  cannot  speak  of  them  without  saying 
a  great  deal,  and  perhaps  at  last  without  saying  so  much 
as  to  excuse  me  in  your  mind  from  censure. — I  have  had  too 
ambitious  and  interested  views,  and  have  placed  my  ex- 
pectations and  desires  too  much  on  the  emoluments  of 


1775 — 1777.]         RELIGIOUS  views.  93 

the  ministry,  and  too  little  on  the  labours.  In  my  stii- 
dies  and  schemes  I  have  more  anxiously  consulted  by 
what  means  I  might  advance  myself,  than  how  I  might 
make  myself  useful  as  a  minister  of  the  gospel.  But  it 
h,^  pleased  providence,  that,  by  means  of  those  very  stu- 
dies on  which  I  founded  my  hopes  of  advancement,  but 
which  have  been  carried  on  in  a  direction  much  different 
than  I  intended,  I  have  arrived  at  a  disposition  of  heart, 
and  a  train  of  thinking,  which  are  totally  incompatible 
with  all  my  hopes  of  preferment.  In  one  word,  I  have 
discovered  the  importance  of  that  trust  which  is  commit- 
ted to  me  ;  what  is  the  extent  of  that  duty  it  requires  ; 
and  how  it  ought  to  be  performed  :  and  I  find  it  something 
inconceivably  different  from  what  one  would  suppose  it 
to  be,  from  the  too  general,  and  well  nigh  universal  con- 
duct of  those  to  whom  it  is  committed.  I  have  also  disco- 
vered what  true  unadulterated  Christianity  is,  and  find 
it  not  exactly  what  even  our  creeds  and  articles  represent 
it.  I  have  arrived,  in  point  of  conscience,  at  perhaps  an 
unnecessary  scrupulousness,  insomuch  that  I  cannot^ 
either  through  hopes  of  gain  and  favour,  or  through 
fear  of  loss  and  censure,  do  a  thing  that  my  heart  dis- 
approves. I  have  arrived  at  a  critical  nicety  in  examin-, 
ing  and  weighing  expressions,  and  comparing  one  thing 
with  another,  which  I  endeavoured  to  attain  as  a  step  to 
advancement  ;  but  the  supreme  Director  has  turned 
it  into  an  insurmountable  obstacle.  Within  sight,  as 
it  were,  of  preferment,  I  have  met  with  what  has 
put  a  period  to  my  present  expectations,  and  has  caus- 
ed me  formally  to  renounce  them.^^ — He  then  states 
his  disapprobation  of  many  things  in  the  Articles, 
and  particularly  his  utter  repugnance  to  the  Atha- 
nasian  creed,  both  its  doctrine  and  its  damnatory 
clauses  ;  and  then   proceeds  :   ''  This  is  the  trial  that 


^4  CHANGE  OP  HIS  ChAP.  IV. 

is  now  upon  me.     If  by  subscription  be  meant  .in  avowed 
assent  to  the    truth  of  every    proposition    contained  in 
w^hat  we  subscribe,  I  can  never  subscribe  these  Articles, 
without  telling  a  most  audacious  lie  in  the  face  of  God, 
in  a  solemn  and  important  matter  of  religion,  for  the  sake 
of  sordid  lucre.     Such  a  lie  would  wound  my  conscience, 
and   forfeit  His   favour,    in  whose  favour  is  life :  and 
I'iches  woidd  make  me  but  a  poor  amends.     On  the  other 
liand,  if  I  resolve  not  to  s\ibscribe,  I  must  at  present  re- 
nounce all  my  aspiring  hopes,  and  be  content  to  be  a  poor, 
and  perhaps  despised,  curate,  and  censured  into  the  bar- 
gain.    But  yet  this  is  the  far  better  side  of  the  question ; 
for  God  has  promised,   and  I  dare  believe,  that  he  that 
scckcth  the  kins^dom  of  God  and  his  ri^hteo2tsness,  shall 
he  supplied  with  what  He  sees  that  he  wants  :  that  he^ 
who    leaves  any    worldly   treasure /or  A25  sake  and  the 
gospePs^  shall  be  amply  rewarded  even  in  this  life  :  and 
that  him,  who  is  not  ashamed  of  Ch?^ist^  and  of  his  W07^dSy 
he  will    not  be  ashamed   to  own  ;  and  the  contrary.     I 
have  therefore  chosen  this  side  of  the  question,  and  hope 
by  God's  assistance  to  persevere  therein. — But,   should 
preferment  be  offered,  I  shall  venture  to  ask,  whether  the 
»above  be  the  right  definition  of  subscription  or  not.  If  they 
mean  any  thing  else,  and  will  say  so — I  mean,  that  a  man  may 
subscribe  without  believing  every  part — I  then  could  sub- 
scribe.    It  is  true,  subscription  would  be  then  a  farce  : 
but  that   is   their  business But,    by   the  unac- 
countable conduct  of  Mr.    W.,  the   affair   is  noised  so 
much  abroad,  that  I  do  not  suppose  I  shall  ever  have 
an   offer  :    nor  do  I  desire  it.      I  am  at  present  very 
composed,  and  resigned  to  my  disappointment  :  and  only 
wish  for  a  rather  better  curacy,  in  a  parish  where  I  could 
live,  and  spend  my  whole  time  in  the  duties  of  my  func- 
tion.— At  fii^tl  was  sadly  agitated,  which  was  increased 


1775 — 1777.]         RELIGIOUS  views.  95 

by  the  warm  censures  I  received.  In  addition  to  other 
things,  I  doubt  I  have  in  part  lost  Mr.  W's.  favour.  But 
that  God  in  whom  I  trust,  and  in  obedience  to  whom  I 
act,  can  raise  me  up  another  and  better  friend.  He  has 
supported  me  hitherto,  and  has  brought  my  mind  to  a 
dependence  on  him  :  and  I  do  not  fear  that  he  will  leave 
me  destitute  ....  I  have  but  80/.  a  year  in  all,  (includ- 
ing payment  for  the  tuition  of  Master  Wrighte, )  and  it  is 
not  very  improbable  that  I  may  get  a  curacy  of  that  val- 
ue alone,  as  I  do  not  mind  what  confinement  it  brings, 

nor  how  much  work  I  do Besides,  I  deem  it  my  duty 

(could  I  do  it,)  to  confine  myself  entirely  to  my  ofiice  as  a 
minister,  which,  whatever  people  may  think,  is  employ- 
ment sufficient  for  any  man,  when  it  is  duly  discharged.'' 

The  following  is  to  his  younger  sister,  (afterwards 
Mrs.  Ford,)  dated  the  next  day,  July  13,  1775. 

'^  Dear  Sister,  Amidst  a  hurry  of  concerns,  I  under- 
take to  write  an  answer  to  your  kind  letter :  but  can 
never  answer  it  in  any  thing  of  a  correct  manner,  as  my 
head  is  full  of  thoughts,  and  my  heart  of  cares.  As  to 
the  aifair  which  engrossed  my  last,  I  can  say  but  little, 
lest  I  should  again  fill  my  sheet  about  it.  Every  day  more 
firmly  convinces  me,  that  my  cause  is  the  cause  of  truth, 
and  makes  me  more  resolved  to  adhere  to  it  at  all  adven- 
tures, confiding  in  God  Almighty  for  snpport  and  assist- 
tance.  I  mean,  that  I  will  never  purchace  preferment 
at  the  price  of  subscription — if  by  subscription  be  meant 
an  avowed  ascent  to  the  truth  of  every  proposition  con- 
tained in  the  thirty-nine  Articles.  If  those  who  require 
subscription  will  put  any  more  favourable  construction 
upon  it,  that  may  alter  the  case. 

"  Since  I  wrote  my  last,  I  have  had  severe  trials,  of 
which  I  must  give  a  brief  account.  I  wrote  a  letter  with 
the  intention  to  publish  it,  which  I  resolved  first  to  shew 


^  CHANGE  OF  Hlfci  ChAP.   IV. 

Mrs.  W..  as  1  thought  it  was  using  Mr.  W.  ill,  if  I  did 
not  make  known  my  resolution  to  him,  that  he  might  not 
trouble  himself  further  on  my  account.  Accordingly  1 
did  let  her  see  it :  and  the  consequence  was,  that  for 
several  days  I  was  almost  baited  out  of  my  life.  All 
manner  of  accusations  were  heaped  upon  me  : — vanity. 
hyi)Ocrisy,  obstinacy,  &c.  I  was  tempted  on  one  hand 
with  hopes,  and  alarmed  on  the  other  with  fears.  Even 
starving  was  mentioned.  But  such  arguments  w^ere 
made  use  of,  as  shewed  me  the  weakness  of  the  cause 
that  needed  them.  Conscience,  religion,  providence,  a 
future  scene  were  all  made  a  mere  jest  of.  But  I  was 
bold,  and  did  not  betray  the  cause  of  God  and  religion, 
bnt  preached  them  some  such  sermons,  (I  mean  in  con- 
versation,) as  they  never  had  before  heard,  I  think. 
However,  the  letter  was  sent,  but  not  published  ;  which 
I  cannot  account  for,  as  I  desired  the  printer  to  send  it 
back  if  he  did  not  clioose  to  publish  it.  But,  strange  to 
tell,  these  very  persons  who  opposed  my  publishing — 
which;  among  bad  consequences  might  have  produced  good 
ones,  (as  every  body  allowed  the  letter  to  be  unanswera- 
ble^ and,  at  the  same  time,  modest  and  decent,  and  such  as 
would  in  some  measure  apologise  for  itself,) — these  very 
persons  spread  the  report  all  over  the  country,  so  that 
no  one  can  be  ignorant  of  my  sentiments  and  resolutions  ; 
yet  none  has  the  opportunity  of  seeing  the  reasons,  on 
W'hich  they  are  grounded,  fairly  stated. — At  the  same 
time  I  gave  considerable  offence  by  my  endeavours  to 
preserve  a  degree  of  authority  over  my  pupil,  which  oc- 
casioned some  disagreeable  circumstiuices. — These  cen- 
Gures,  added  to  the  trial  of  relinquishing  all  my  fond  hopes, 
and  renouncing  my  worldly  interests,  and  aggravated  by 
all  the  terrors,  by  which,  in  the  day  of  trial,  every  thing 
is  magnified,  was  well  nigh  more  than  I  could  bear.  But 


1775 — 1777.]  RELIGIOUS  views.  97 

by  God  Almighty's  assistance,  to  whom  I  applied  for  di- 
rection and  support,  in  a  manner  that,  I  hope,  was  ac- 
ceptable through  his  mercy,  I  soon  composed  my  agitated 
mind,  and  reduced  it  into  a  state  of  resigned  acquiescence 
in  his  will,  and  trust  in  his  promises.  .  .  .  In  adherence 
to  the  cause  which  I  think  good,  I  am  ready  to  resign  all 
my  worldly  expectations,  and  to  sell  all  that  I  have,  take 
up  my  cross,  and  follow  my  Lord  and  Master. — To  this 
state  of  calmn  composure  I  arrived  chiefly  by  reading  the 
Gospels,  and  supposing  the  promises  therein  contained 
addressed  to  me  by  divine  veracity  :  and  I  have  by  that 
means,  joined  with  prayer  to  God  for  direction  and  assist- 
ance, arrived  at  that  state  of  mind  as  to  be  ready  to  give 
up  all  my  aspiring  thoughts,  and  to  content  myself  to 
serve  God  in  the  humble  condition  of  a  curate,  if  such 
be  his  will :  though  I  cannot,  nor  can  all  the  world,  ex- 
clude me  so  effectually  from  preferment,  but  that  God 
can  give  it  me,  if  he  sees  good.  This  advantage  I  have 
most  certainly  reaped  from  it,  that  it  has  caused  me 
more  carefully  to  examine  the  holy  scriptures,  and  to 
turn  my  thoughts  more  to  these  subjects,  and  to  the  con- 
sideration of  that  important  trust,  which  is  committed  to 
me,  and  how  I  may  discharge  it,  so  as,  while  I  preach  to 
others,  I  may  not  be  myself  a  cast- away.  This  has  been 
a  most  valuable  acquisition,  as  I  was  before  too  apt  to 
judge  by  comparison,  and  to  think  I  did  enough  if  I  did 
rather  more  than  others  :  but  now^  I  find  that,  as  I  have 
been  solemnly  dedicated  to  the  service  of  God  and  reli- 
gion, I  can  never  do  enough,  so  long  as  I  leave  any  thing 
undone,  which  it  was  in  my  power  to  do,  towards  the 
growth  of  religious  knowledge  and  virtuous  practice. — I 
have  found  that  those,  who  enter  the  ministry  for  the 
sake  of  the  riches,  and  honours,  and  indulgences  there- 
by to  be  obtained,  are  guilty  of  a  most  aggravated  crime : 

N 


9S  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [CfIAP.  IV. 

ancl  that  a  zeal  for  tlie  projinjjjation  of  the  gospel  and  the 
s.-ilvation  of  souls  :  a  williiigiKss  to  undertake  anj/  labours, 
and  nn  alacrity  in  undergoing  them  :  a  ready  su1)iuission 
to  incoTivenience.  and  a  constanry  amidst  difliculties  : 
being  capable  even  of  bearing  contempt  and  censure^  or 
poverty,  when  laid  in  the  way  of  our  duty  ;  a  warm  be- 
nevolence ;  and  that  kind  of  humility,  which  can  conde- 
scend to  the  meanest  oftices  for  the  sake  of  doing  good  ; 
are  the  indispensable  dispositions  for  a  faithful  minister 
of  the  gospel.  We  are  to  live  at  the  altei' :  but  a  liimig 
a  bare  decent  maintenance,  w  ithout  any  avaricious  or  am- 
bitious views  of  advancing  ourselves  or  our  families,  or 
hankering  after  indulgencies^  should  content  us.  We 
are  required  to  set  an  example  of  moderation,  and  trust 
in  God  and  his  promises ;  of  heavenly  mindedness  ;  lay- 
ing up  our  treasures  in  heaven  ;  setting  our  affections  on 
things  above  ;  having  food  and  raiment  being  therewith 
content ;  in  order  that,  with  the  greater  advantage,  we 
may,  as  we  are  in  duty  boiind,  inculcate  these  things  on 
our  flocks  : — all  this  1  have  learned,  or  confirmed  to  my- 
self, and  have,  by  God's  grace,  fixed  my  resolution  to 
endeavour  to  attain.  And,  being  assured  that^  if  I  do  so, 
he  will  never  leave  me  destitute,  I  am  perfectly  content- 
ed, as  far  as  relates  to  this  afTair,  only  desiring  that  I  may 
be  able  to  persevere  in  my  duty,  and,  with  an  entire  de- 
pendence, leaving  the  further  disposal  of  my  concerns  to 
God." 

My  last  extract  is  from  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Webster,  da- 
ted Ravenstone,  October  15,  1775.  In  ••what  you  say 
of  my  religious  scruples,  you  seem  in  several  erroi^  con- 
cerning me  and  my  conduct,  which  I  must  endeavour  to 
rectify.  You  seem  afraid  I  should  lose  all  this  world's 
goods.  Remember  our  Saviour's  words,  JV/fosofve?^  fie 
he  tlutt  forsakf'tfi   not  all  that  he  luitlu  he  eannot  he  infj 


1775 — 1777.]  RELIGIOUS  VIEWS.  99 

disciple  :  that  is^   if  he   be  not  ready  to  forsake  all  that 
he  hath,  when  his  duty  requires  it.     Not  that  I  have  any 
reason  to  apprehend  I  am  likely  to  be   put  to  that  severe 
trial.     Thanks  to  the  Almighty,  my  circumstances  mend, 
my  friends  multiply,  and  I  have  reason  to  think  that  my 
reputation,  as  a  faithful  minister,  increases  rsther  than  di- 
minishes,— if  one  may  judge  by  external  respect^  civili- 
ties, and  favours.     Not  that  I  am  so  far  ruled  in  my 
opinion  of  myself  by  what  others  judge  of  me,  as  to  be 
reconciled  to  my  faults  because  they  are  willing  to  pardon 
them.     My  conscience  must  be  my  judge  in  this  world, 
and  my  saviour  in   the   next :   and  to  them  I  appeal  for 
the  rectitude  of  my  intentions.      But  even  were  I  to  be 
put  to  the  trial  of  losing  all  my  worldly  goods,  let  me  ask 
you,  would  you  have  me  follow  the  example  of  the  young 
man  in  the  gospel,  who,  sorrowing,  left  Christ  rather  than 
part  with    his  large    possessions  ?     What   think  you  of 
what  our  Lord  says.  But  seek  ye  first  the  kingdoin  of 
God  J  and  his  righteousness,  and  all  other  things  shall. be 
added  unto  you  ?     Dare  you  believe  this  promise  or  not  ? 
I  DARE  :    and  will  act  accordingly,  by  God's  assistance. 
As  to  what  you  argue  of  my  family?  &c.   I  will  take  every 
honest  precaution  to  provide  for  them  :  and  I  dare  con- 
fidently submit  the  event  to  God,  without  once  distrust- 
ing his  veracity  and  goodness.       Nor  will  I  ever  violate 
my  conscience  to  provide  for  my  family  :  at  least  I  hope 
I  never  shall.  .  .  .  Were  I  in  your  condition,  as  a  private 
Christian,  the  subjects  of  my  scruples  would  give  me  no 
concern  :   and  I  join  in  the  whole  liturgy  of  the  church, 
some  very  few  things  excepted,   with  the  highest  satis- 
faction.— As  to  my    preaching,    I  neither  preach  for  or 
against  any  human  inventions.     The  word  of  God  is  my 
subject,  and  my  rule  ;  and  my  preaching,  I  may  venture 
to  say,  is  more  calculated  to  satisfy  than  to   raise  doubts 


100  ciiAxcK  OF  HIS  [Chap.  IV. 

and  st'i'iiplcs.  Without  prcternieiit  1  may  live,  and  Vive 
conitbrtably  and  liappily  :  but  without  a  clear  conscience 
I  cannot.  I  am  a  minister  of  the  church  of  England, 
and  hope  to  continue  so,  as  I  prefer  her  liturgy,  her  dis- 
ci])line,  and  her  doctrine,  to  that  of  any  other  society  of 
Christians  in  the  universe  :  and  if,  by  subscribing  her 
Articles,  they  will  declare  they  mean  no  more  than  such 
a  preference,  I  will  subscribe  :  but,  if  they  mean  by 
subscription  an  implicit  belief  of  all  their  doctrines,  it  is 
a  price  I  will  not  pay  for  preferment.  .  .  .  Mr.  Lindsay 
I  think  in  many  dangerous  errors,  and  I  am  sorry  my  fa- 
ther has  got  his  book.'' 

All  this  appears  to  me  to  present  as  fine  an  exhibition, 
in  proportion  to  the  stage  on  which  it  was  passing,  as  can, 
perhaps,  be  pointed   out  since  the   days  of  Luther,  of  a 
man  resolutely  taking  the  right  side  in  a  severe  case  of 
that  conflict,  which  is  continually,  in  one  form  or  other, 
carrying  on  in  the  v\  orld,  between  conscience  and  present 
interest  ;  and  in  which  so  few  are  proof  against  the  vari- 
ous assaults  that  temptation  makes  upon  them.     These 
letters  demonstrate  that,  though  the  writer  was   yet  far 
from  having  obtained  just  views  of  christian  doctrines ; 
even  of  those  doctrines  which  are  most  essential  to  the 
formation  of  the  Christian  spirit  and  character ;  he  yet 
had  received  that  great  principal  of  ••  obedience  to  the 
iaith,"'  which  was  sure,  under  the  divine  blessing,  ulti- 
mately to  bring  him  right ;  to  lead  him  to  the  reception 
of  every  truth,  and  to  submission  to  every  duty,  as  they 
might  be  successively  brought  home  to  his  conviction.   In- 
deed almost  all  the  great  lineaments  of  my  father  s  subse- 
quent character  are  here  presented  to  us  in  embryo,  or 
indeed  in  a   stage  of  considerable    developement  : — his 
decision  and  boldness — iiis   inllexible   integrity — his  ac- 
knowledgement of  (iod  in  all  his  ways — his  firm  faith  in 


1775 — 1777.]  RELIGIOUS  views.  101 

His  word,  and  His  providence — his  superiority  to  the 
world — his  exalted  views  of  the  service  which  Christ  re- 
quires of  us,  especially  in  the  sacred  ministry  ; — views,  be 
it  observed,  which,  however  familiar  they  may  be  to  any 
of  us,  open  upon  him  with  all  the  air  and  impres- 
sion of  anew  discovery.  Let  a  few  sentences  be  recall- 
ed to  the  reader's  notice : — "  It  has  pleased  providence, 
that,  by  means  of  those  very  studies,  on  which  I  founded 
my  hopes  of  advancement,  I  have  arrived  at  what  is  to- 
tally incompatible  with  it.  The  supreme  Director  has 
turned  it  into  an  insurmountable  obstacle. — This  is  the 
far  better  side  of  the  question'^ — namely,  poverty,  con- 
tempt, censure,  with  a  good  conscience. — "  I  have  chosen 
this  side,  and  hope  by  God's  assistance  to  persevere  there- 
in.— I  will  never  violate  my  conscience  to  provide  for  my 
family ;  at  least,  I  hope  I  never  shall. — Without  prefer- 
ment I  may  live,  and  live  happily  ;  but  without  a  clear 
conscience  I  cannot. — I  was  bold,  and  did  not  betray  the 
cause  of  God. — Would  you  have  me  follow  the  example 
of  the  young  man  in  the  gospel  ? — God  hath  promised 
and  I  dare  believe  him. — Dare  you  believe  his  promise  ? 
I  dare  :  and  by  his  issistance  will  act  accordingly. — I  do 
not  fear  that  he  will  leave  me  destitute. — By  reading  the 
gospels,  with  prayer  to  God,  I  have  arrived  at  that  state 
of  mind,  as  to  be  ready  to  resign  all  my  worldly  expecta- 
tions, and  to  sell  all  that  I  have,  take  up  my  cross,  and 
follow  my  Lord  and  Master. — I  have  discovered  the  im- 
portance of  that  trust  which  is  committed  to  me  ;  what  is 
the  extent  of  that  duty  it  requires  ;  and  how  it  ought  to 
be  performed  :  and  I  find  it  inconceivably  different  from 
what  is  generally  supposed. — I  was  apt  to  judge  by  com- 
parison, and  to  think  I  did  enough  if  I  did  rather  more 
others  :  but  now  I  find  that,  as  I  have  been  solemnly  de- 
dicated to  the  service  of  God  and  religion,  I  can  never  df> 


102  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [ChAP.IV. 

enougli,  so  long  us  I  leave  any  thing  undone,  which  it  was 
in  my  power  to  do,  towards  the  growth  of  riiigions  know- 
ledge and  virtuous  practice. — We  are  to  live  at  tlie  altar  : 
but  a  living,  a  bare  decent  maintenance,  without  any 
avaricious  or  ambitious  views  of  advancing  ourselves  or 
our  families,  or  hankering  after  indulgences,  should  con- 
tent us." — I  must  be  pardoned  if  I  cannot  contemplate 
with  mere  calm  approbation  sentences  like  these,  not 
artfully  arranged 

*  to  serve  an  occasion,' 
but  whispered,  in  sincerity  of  heart,  where,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  they  were  not  likely  to  be  received  with 
approbation,  and  where  there  was  no  prospect  of  their  ever 
emerging  to  public  notice  : — sentences,  too,  accompanied 
with  unquestionable  marks  of  sobriety  of  mind  and  deli- 
berate judgment  :  expressive  of  a  severe  sacrifice  then 
actually  taking  place  ;  and  conveying  sentiments  which, 
after  some  further  fluctuations  and  delays,  eventually  go- 
verned the  whole  future  life  of  their  author.  Surely 
there  is  something  in  them  wliich  bespeaks  even  the 
Christian  hero.  The  occasion,  indeed,  whi(  h  first  call- 
ed these  principles  into  action,  was,  as  he  soon  afterwards 
found,  a  fundamental  misconception  of  Christian  truths  ; 
but  the  principles  themselves  were  noble. — From  my  fa- 
ther's conduct  at  this  crisis,  Mr.  Newton  argued  well  of 
him  :  but  it  would  be  a  very  small  ])art  of  what  is  now 
before  us,  that  could  be  submitted  to  Mr.  N."s  observa- 
tion. Had  he  known  all  that  passed,  he  might  well  have 
anticipated  all  that  followed. 

The  comparative  poverty  in  which  my  father  spent 
his  days  has  been  lamented  :  and  on  some  grounds  it 
might  justly  be  so  :  but,  had  his  lot  had  been  materially 
different,  is  it  not  manifest  that  sentiments  like  the  above, 


1775 — 1777. ]"         RELIGIOUS  views.  103 

which  pervade  his  future  writings,  would  in  his  mouth 
have  lost  more  than  half  their  force  ? 

One  further  remark  suggests  itself.  No  one  I  should 
conceive  can  doubt,  especially  when  these  letters  are 
viewed  in  connexion  with  what  subsequently  took  place, 
that  the  writer  of  them  was,  at  the  time,  praying  to  God 
in  an  acceptable  manner,  as  well  as  profitably  reading  the 
scriptures.  The  right  use  of  prayer — making  God  our 
refuge  in  time  of  need — is  apparent  in  them ;  and  the 
genuine  effect  of  true  prayer  follows,  which  is  composure 
of  mind  in  committing  events  to  God,  while  we  keep  the 
path  of  duty.  And  this  falls  in  with  a  persuasion  which 
my  father  always  entertained,  and  which  has  in  effect 
been  already  quoted  from  the  '  Force  of  Truth,'  that  he 
prayed  spiritually,  and  consequently  with  acceptance, 
even  while,  to  a  considerable  degree,  involved  in  Soci- 
nian  errors.  No  doubt,  in  such  a  case,  he  was  assisted 
by  a  spirit  which  he  did  not  confess,  and  accepted  through 
a  Mediator,  of  whom,  as  yet,  he  had  little  explicit  know-- 
ledge.  But  then,  let  it  be  observed,  he  was  at  this  time 
no  stationary  and  self-satisfied  Socinian  :  he  was  now  a 
sincere  and  earnest  enquirer  after  truth  :  he  desired  "  to 
know,"  in  order  that  he  might  ^'^  do,  the  will  of  God:'^ 
he  had  already  received  that  impulse,  which  was  ere  long 
to  carry  him  far  off  from  the  Socinian  ground.  And  ac- 
cordingly the  very  next  paragraph,  in  the  '  Force  of 
Truth,'  to  those  which  are  quoted  as  an  introduction  to 
the  above  letters,  informs  us,  that  the  result  of  his  great 
mental  conflict  was,  to  bring  him  "  to  this  important  de- 
termination :  not  so  to  believe  what  any  man  said,  as  to 
take  it  upon  his  authority  ;  but  to  search  the  word  of  God 
with  this  single  intention,  to  discover  whether  the  Arti- 
cles of  the  Church  of  England,  in  general,  and  the  Atha- 
nasian  creed  in  particidar,  were  or  were  not  agreeable  to 


104  CIIANOE  OF  HIS  [ChAP.  IV. 

the  scriptures.'*  And  hence  may  be  dated  that  deep 
practical  study  of  the  oracles  of  God,  with  constant  ear- 
nest prayer  for  divine  teaching ;  and  that  entire  change 
of  sentiments  and  of  character,  resulting  from  it ;  which 
the  *  Force  of  Truth'  describes. — I  cherish,  not  with  a 
superstitious,  yet  certainly  with  a  sort  of  reverent  and 
grateful  regard,  a  fragment  of  that  Greek  Testament  in 
which,  in  the  course  of  these  inquiries,  my  father  read 
and  deeply  meditated  upon  every  part  of  that  volume  of 
revelation  ;  spending  usually,  as  I  have  heard  him  say, 
during  that  one  perusal,  three  hours  upon  every  chapter: 
frequently,  when  the  weather  would  permit,  passing  this 
time  in  the  park  of  Weston  Underwood,  which  has  been 
subsequently  immortalized  in  the  writings  of  Cowper. 

Before  we  return  to  the  narrative,  I  shall  here  intro- 
duce one  more  extract  of  a  letter,  shewing  his  views  of 
some  important  doctrinal  points.      Though   it  appears 
from  the  '  Force  of  Truth,'  that  he  was  not  established 
in  the  orthodox  faith  concerning  the  Trinity  till  the  lat- 
ter part  of  the  year  1777,  yet  he  wrote  as  follows  upon 
some  topics,  apparently  connected  with  it,  as  early  as 
December  30,  1775.      ^^  I  think   my  father's  books  lead 
him  into  errors  of  considerable  consequence  :  but,  though 
I  wish,  and  pray  to  God  to  set  him  right,  yet  I  seem  very 
unwilling  to  ofi'er  myself  as  an  instrument.     The  error  I 
mean  in  chief  is,  the  supposition  that  man  wanted  an  in- 
structor, more  than  a  Saviour :  or,  in  other  words,  that 
the  merits  of  Christ  were  not  so  necessary  to  obtain  re- 
mission of  sins,  at  his  i7istruction  was  to  teach  us  the  way 
of    righteonsness.      But  this   is  contrary  to    scripture. 
Man,  every  man,  is  there  represented  a  sinner,  as  in  bon- 
dage to  sin  and   the  devil,  and  as   wanting  i^edemption 
from  them  ;  as  liable  to  punishment,  and  wanting  salva- 
tion from  it ;   as  weak  and  frail,   and  wanting  the  di- 


1775 — 1777.]  RELIGIOUS  views.  105 

vine  assistance.  For  all  these  purposes  Jesus  came.  He 
is  therefore  our  Redeemer,  our  Saviour,  as  well  as  our 
Instructor ;  and  on  him,  by  faith,  we  should  rely  for  for- 
giveness, for  effectual  assistance  in  obeying  his  precepts, 
and  for  the  acceptance  of  our  imperfect  obedience.'^ 

We  now  return  to  his  narrative.  '^During  part  of 
the  time  that  I  resided  at  Ravenstone,  1  daily  attended 
Mr.  Wrighte's  son :  but,  in  proportion  as  I  became  more 
decidedly  attentive  to  religion,  my  company  was  less 
agreeable ;  and,  some  difference  arising  about  the  man- 
agement of  an  indulged  child,  I  was  dismissed  from  this 
employment.  For  some  time  afterwards,  I  lived  on  terms 
of  civility  with  the  family  :  but,  on  my  decidedly  adopt- 
ing and  avowing  my  present  religious  sentiments,  this 
connection  was,  as  nearly  as  possible,  dissolved.  Thus 
all  my  flattering  prospects  from  that  quarter  terminated. 
But  it  is  better  to  trust  in  the  Lord,  than  to  put  any 
confidence  in  princes, ^^ — The  young  man  who  had  been 
my  father's  pupil,  lost  his  life  about  the  time  that  he  came 
of  age,  in  a  melancholy  manner,  on  which  occasion,  my 
father  says,  "  I  wrote  to  Mr.  W.  in  the  most;  consoling, 
sympathizing  manner  I  possibly  could,  introducing  a  few 
intimations  of  a  religious  nature  ;  hoping  that  on  so  pathe- 
tic an  occasion  his  answer  might  have  made  way  for  some- 
thing further  :  but  no  answer  was  returned.'' 

He  proceeds :  "  Some  part  of  that  time  also,  I  had 
two  young  relations  from  London  under  my  care.  I  suc- 
ceeded sufficiently  well  in  bringing  them  forward  in  their 
studies,  but  I  failed  of  gaining  their  attachment ;  and  I 
became  convinced,  that  I  did  not  possess  that  patience, 
meekness,  and  self-command,  which  the  instruction  of 
youth,  especially  of  indulged  children,  requires  :  and, 
having  learned,  probably  better  than  I  had  any  other 
good  lesson,  to  trust  in  the  providence  of  God  for  tern- 

0 


106  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [ChAP.  IV. 

poral  subsistence,  while  I  attended  to  the  duties  of  my 
station  ;  and,  finding  that  I  had,  in  my  peculiar  circum- 
>tances,  quite  sufficient  employment,  in  learning  and 
teaching  religion  ;  I  deliberately  gave  up  this  part  ot* 
my  plan,  resolving  to  undertake  nothing  more  in  the  way 
of  tuition,  at  least  for  the  present.  This  being  deter- 
mined, I  solemnly  vowed  before  God,  never  more  to  en- 
gage in  any  pui^uit,  study,  or  publication,  which  should 
not  be  evidently  subservient  to  my  ministerial  usefulness, 
or,  generally,  to  the  propagation  of  genuine  Christianity. 
In  some  respects,  perhaps,  my  notions  on  these  subjects 
were  too  contracted :  but  I  rejoice,  and  am  thankful,  that 
I  have  hitherto  performed  this  vow.'' 

On  this  subject  the  following  paragraph  occurs  in  the 
'•'  Force  of  Truth.'  "  About  this  time" — the  latter  part 
of  the  year  1776 — «•'  after  many  delays^  I  complied  with 
the  admonitions  of  my  conscience,  and  disengaged  my- 
self from  all  other  employments,  with  a  solemn  resolu- 
tion to  leave  all  my  temporal  concerns  in  the  hands  of  the 
Lord,  and  entirely  to  devote  myself  to  the  work  of  the 
ministry.  Being  thus  become  master  of  all  my  time,  I 
dropped  every  other  study,  and  turned  the  whole  cur- 
rent of  my  reflections  and  inquires  into  another  channel ; 
and  for  several  years  I  scarcely  opened  a  book  which 
treated  of  any  thing  besides  religion.'' 

The  purpose  here  described,  so  solemnly  formed,  so 
faithfully  kept,  and  eventually  productive  of  such  impor- 
tant results,  nuist  certainly  be  noticed  as  a  very  observa- 
ble point  in  my  fathers  history.  The  proceeding  was 
still  characteristic  ;  shewing  his  usual  determination  of 
mind.  Circumstances  also,  as  he  implies,  might  peculiar- 
ly call  for  it  in  his  case  :  and,  now  that  we  have  seen  the 
event,  w^e  cannot  help  regarding  it,  as  one  of  those  steps 
which  was  to  lead  to  the  accomplishment  of  the  special 


1775 — 1777.]       RELIGIOUS  views.  107 

work  J  that  divine  providence  designed  him  to  perform. 
Considering  likewise  the  ambitious  views  which  had  in- 
fluenced his  entering  into  orders,  and  many  of  his  sub- 
sequent exertions,  and  the  deliberate  sacrifice  of  those 
views  which  was  made  by  the  resolution  now  before  us, 
we  can  hardly  avoid  looking  upon  it,  as  marking  a  mind 
just  arrived  at  that  point  of  its  Christian  progress,  at 
which,  "  after  many  delays,''  many  hesitations,  and  mis- 
givings, and  conflicts,  and  fears,  perhaps,  for  the  conse- 
quences, it  is  at  length  brought  "to  count  all  but  loss  for 
Christ,'' — "  finds  the  pearl  of  great  price,  and  goes  and 
sells  all  that  it  may  buy  it." 

Independently,  however,  of  any  thing  peculiar  to  the 
present  case,  is  not  one  compelled  to  exclaim.  Blessed  is 
that  servant,  called  by  his  Lord  to  the  work  of  the  min- 
istry, who  thus  "  gives  himself  wholly  thereto  !"*  His 
"  profiting  shall  be  known  unto  all  men  :"  his  "  labour 
shall  not  be  in  vain  in  the  Lord  :"  he  shall  be  "  blessed 
in  his  deed."  Alas  !  in  this  especially  we  fail,  I  fear,  of 
imitating  the  primitive  ministers  of  the  gospel.  And 
are  not  we,  of  the  present  generation,  here  in  danger  of 
falling  short  of  our  fathers ;  of  men  who  have  been  called 
to  their  reward  even  in  our  own  time  ?  Are  we  not 
eften  distracted  by  various  studies,  various  pursuits^ 
which  pertain  to  the  present  life,  instead  of  wholly  given 
to  the  work  of  the  Lord  ?  Is  it  not  from  this,  among 
other  causes,  that  we  are  so  liable  to  be  ministers,  indeed, 
in  the  pulpit,  but,  at  the  best,  only  ordinary  Christians 
every  where  else  Pf 

While  I  venture  to  suggest  these  enquiries,  prompted, 
alas !  in  great  measure  by  my  own  feelings,  and  my  own 

*  *£•' Toj/To/c /crS-/.     1  Tim.  iv.  15. 

t  See  the  admirable  remarks  on  the  Christian  Ministry  in  Mr. 
Cecil's  Remains.  ^ 


108  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [ChAP.  IV. 

consciousness,  I  would  not  forget  the  limiUitiou  which  tlio 
subject  of  these  memoirs  himself  puts  upon  what  has  given 
occasion  to  them.  He  observes,  "  In  some  respects,  per- 
haps, my  notions  on  these  subjects  were  (then)  too  con- 
tracted." And  accordingly  I  would  add,  that,  though 
^'  for  several  yeai's  he  scarcely  opened  a  book  wliich 
treated  of  any  thing  besides  religion,"  this  by  no  means 
continued  to  be  the  case,  when  his  mind  was  made  up, 
and  well  stored  with  information,  upon  theological  ques- 
tions. On  the  contrary,  his  reading  then  became  as  va- 
rious as  he  had  the  opportunity  of  making  it.  No  book, 
which  famished  knowledge  that  might  be  turned  to  ac- 
count, was  uninteresting  to  him.*  It  was  his  sentiment, 
that  every  student  should  be  as  excursive  in  his  research- 
es, as  his  particular  calling  would  permit  him  to  be  ;  but 
that  every  one  should  have,  so  to  speak,  "  a  hive"  to 
which  to  bring  home  his  collected  stores  ;  should  make 
all  his  acquisitions  bear  upon  some  useful  object.  So  far 
from  undervaluing  solid  learning  of  any  kind,  he  esteem- 
ed it  more  and  more  highly,  to  the  end  of  life  ;  and  ear- 
nestly pressed  young  men  to  acquire  it,  that  they  might 
consecrate  it  to  the  service  of  God.  He  longed  to  see 
other  branches  of  literature  rendered  subservient  to  reli- 
gion ;  and  thought  that,  while  too  much,  perhaps,  was 
published  directly  upon  theological  subjects,  there  was 
a  lamentable  deficiency  of  literary  works  conducted  upon 
sound  Christian  principles. 

*  As  examples,  I  would  mention,  that,  when  Mr.  H.  Thornton's 
work  on  Paper  Credit  came  out,  he  read  it  repeatedly  with 
great  satisfaction ;  having  in  some  measure  been  prepared  for 
the  subject  by  his  former  study  of  Locke's  '  Treatise  on  Money,' 
8cc.  At  a  much  later  period  also  he  felt  himself  deeply  interest- 
ed in  reading  the  Greek  tragedians,  and  other  classic  authors., 
with  his  pupils. 


1775 — 1777.]  RELIGIOUS  views.  109 

I  may  here  introduce  another  remarkable  letter,  shew- 
ing the  progress  of  his  doctrinal  views  at  this  time.  It 
is  addressed  to  his  younger  sister,  and  dated  December 
30,  1776.  I  should  have  supposed  it  written  after  he  had 
become  acquainted  with  Hooker's  works,  had  he  not  in 
the  '  Force  of  Truth'  so  expressly  referred  his  introduc- 
tion to  that  great  writer  to  the  following  month,  January 
1777.  One  expression  in  the  letter  certainly  seems  to 
imply  that  he  had  met  with,  at  least,  an  important 
quotation  from  Hooker. — It  should  be  borne  in  mind, 
that  in  this  and  other  letters,  when  he  uses  the  term  me- 
thodistj  it  is  with  the  same  limitation  as  in  the  '  Force  of 
Truth  :'  it  means  neither  the  followers  of  Mr.  Wesley^ 
nor  of  Mr.  Whitfield,  to  whom  it  was  first  applied,  and 
by  whom  it  has  been  more  or  less  recognized  ;  but  chief- 
ly those  persons,  within  the  pale  of  the  established  church, 
who  have  incurred  it,  as  a  term  of  reproach,  by  a  close 
adherence  to  the  real  doctrines  (as  they  apprehend  them 
to  be, )  of  the  reformation,  and  a  conduct  corresponding 
with  their  principles.*^     The  letter  is  as  follows  : 

"  I  told  my  brother  I  would  give  him  my  senti- 
ments on  some  subjects  he  mentioned,  in  my  letter  to 
you.  The  first  was  the  Methodists.  And  here  I  shall 
not  begin  to  rail  at  them,  or  condemn  them,  and  their 
doctrines  and  principles  altogether  :  nor  yet  shall  I  ac- 
quit, or  extol  them,  in  the  gross.  Their  doctrines 
are  the  doctrines  of  scripture,  by  the  help  of  a  warm 
imagination,  run  into  extremes  ;  which,  pushed  forward 
by  the  same  helps,  may  be  represented  as  little  better  than 
madness,  and  as  destructive  of  all  practical  religion. — 
Their  doctrines  are,  1.  Justification  by  faith  alone  :  and 
in  this  matter  they  are  evidently  in  the  right,  as  every 

*  See  note  at  the  end  of  the  first  part  of  the  «  Force  of  Truth/ 


no  CHANGE  OP  HIS  [ChAP.  IV. 

man  who  reads  the  scripture  must  see.    The  doctrine,  as  I 
view  it,  stands  thus  :   All  men  are  actual  sinners  :  No 
sinner  can  justify  himself  before  God  :  If  then  he  be  jus- 
tified, it  cannot  be  by  his  own  works,  but  by  God'S  mercy 
and  favour :  And  this  mercy  and  favour  are  given  to  none  but 
believers.     At  the  same  time,  even  our  best  performances 
have  so  much  of  imperfection  in  them,  our  fruit  of  holiness 
is  unsound*,  that,  before  a  holy  God,  even  our  best  actions 
cannot  justify  themselves;  much  less  atone  for  our  mani- 
fold sins,  or  deserve  any  reward  or  an  eternal  reward. 
Therefore  our  justification  is  not,  in  any  sense  or  degree, 
attributed  to  our  works,   because  they  have  no  inherent 
merit,  or  acceptableness,  in  them,  save  as  God  doth  mer- 
cifully condescend  to  accept  them  at  the  hands  of  believ- 
ers.    Therefore  we  are  justified  before  God  by  faith  : 
but  then  it  is  such  a  faith  as  worketh  by  love,   love  of 
God  and  man  ;  bringeth  the  believer  under  the  influence 
of  the  Holy  Spirit :   and  the  fruit  of  that  Spirit  is  in  all 
good'nessy  and  righteousness^   and  truth.     If  faith  do 
not  this,  it  is  so  far  from  justifying  any    person,  that  it 
cannot  justify  itself:     it  is  dead,    inactive,   unfruitful. 
Thus  the  necessity  of  good  works  is  effectually  secured  ; 
for  without  them  there  is  no  justification.     And  yet  we 
are  not  justified  by  them,  but  by  that  faith  which  produ- 
ces them.     Read   St.  Paul's  epistles,   and  St.   James's, 
carefully,  without  any  comment,    and  object  to  the  doc- 
trine if  you  can.     The  methodists  therefore  are  to  blame 
in  this  alone,  that  they  do  not  guard  their  doctrine  as  St. 
Paul  has  done,  but  use  such  expressions  in  discoursing  of 
it,  as  may  be  interpreted   so,  as   utterly  to  destroy  all 

*  "  The  little  fruit  which  we  have  in  holiness,  it  is,  God  know- 
eth,  corrupt  and  unsound.'*     Hooker,  of  Justification. 


1775 — 1777.]         RELIGIOUS  views.  Ill 

good  and  evil ;  and  dwell  on  these  passages  in  such  wise, 
as  to  negleet  and  undervalue  those  other  passages  which 
so  plainly  declare,  that  the  design  of  the  gospel  is,  to 
make  us  holy  here,  that  we  may  be  capable  of  being  hap- 
py hereafter.  See  Tit.  ii.  11,  &c. — But  then  the  minis- 
ters of  other  principles  are  at  least  equally  to  blame  for 
so  much  neglecting  to  study  the  scriptures,  and  to  explain 
these  doctrines  in  their  true  sense  ;  thereby  giving  inju- 
dicious people  an  occasion  of  perverting  them. — In 
short,  we  are  to  be  justified  by  our  faith,  which  alone 
can  render  sinners  partakers  of  the  grace  and  mercy  of 
the  gospel :  at  the  same  time,  we  and  our  faith  also  must 
be  judged  according  to  our  works  :  and,  if  our  faith 
have  not  produced  the  fruits  of  righteousness,  it  will  be 
condemned  as  dead  and  unfruitful,  and  we  both  as  sinners 
and  unbelievers. — 2,  The  methodists  preach  the  impu- 
ted righteousness  of  Christ :  which  too  is  a  scripture 
doctrine,  as  I  think.  Christ  became  sin  for  us,  though 
he  knew  no  sin,  that  we  might  be  made  the  righteous- 
ness of  God  in  him,  says  St.  Paul.  But  I  will  leave 
you  to  examine  it,  unless  you  desire  me  to  be  more  full, 
and  only  lay  down  my  system  of  it.  We  all  by  nature 
had  interest  in  Adam,  and  were  condemned  in  or  by  his 
condemnation,  for  his  disobedience,  unto  temporal  death. 
(This  certainly  we  all  suiFered  on  account  of  Adam's  sin, 
who  thereby  became  mortal,  and  propagated  a  mortal 
progeny ;  though  all  other  consequences  were  best  at- 
tributed to  each  person's  actual  transgressions.) — Even 
so  we  all  may  spiritually,  being  by  faith  united  unto  him, 
as  branches  of  the  true  vine,  have  interest  in  Christ,  and 
be  justified  in  his  justification,  for  his  perfect  obedience, 
unto  eternal  life.  See  Rom.  v,  vi. — I  am  persuaded,  if 
you  carefully  examine,  you  will  find  this  not  only  St. 
Paul's  doctrine,  but,  in  general,  the  doctrine  of  the  New 


112  CHANGE  OF  HIS  [ChAP.  IV  . 

Testament.  The  only  fault  the  methodists  commit  is,  in 
laying  so  much  stress  on  this,  as  to  derogate  from  the 
necessity  of  pei-sonal  righteousness,  or  holiness.  And 
here  indeed  they  are  very  unscriptural ;  for  nothing  can 
be  ])lainer  than  that,  if  any  man  be  by  faith  united  unto 
Christ,  that  union  will  assuredly  make  him  bring  forth 
much  fruit :  (see  John  xv.)  and  that  nothing  can  more 
effectually  dissolve  that  mystical  union,  than  a  wicked 
and  immoral  life. — 3.  The  methodists  attribute  all  to 
the  Grace  of  God's  Holy  Spirit,  even  faith  itself:  and 
so  do  the  scriptures.  And  yet  in  this  they  are  more  ex- 
ceptionable than  in  any  other  point ;  because  they  there- 
by totally  and  avowedly  overthrow  our  agency,  and 
turn  us  into  machines,  and  render  God  a  respector  of 
persons,  and  indeed  what  I  do  not  choose  to  say*. 
In  short,  to  every  Christian  God  hath  promised  his 
Holy  Spirit,  if  he  sues  for  it,  and  is  more  ready  to  give 
than  we  to  pray  ;  and  doth,  in  the  sinners  conversion, 
prevent  his  prayers  :  but  we  may  resist,  grieve,  quench, 

do  despite   unto  this  Holy  Spirit I  say  nothing  of 

their  notions  of  election,  predestination,  assurance  of  the 
elect,  and  others,  which  are  all  implied,  as  far  as  doctrin- 
alt?  in  what  I  have  said  ;  though  as  mere  speculative  no- 
tions they  are  not ;  and  are  too  abstruse,  and  unimpor- 
tant, and  perplexing,  to  be  worth  treating  of. — The  doc- 
trines of  regeneration,  or  the  new  birth,  and  original  sin, 
and  free  grace,  are  all  more  or  less  scriptural  :  but  un- 
der such  interpreters  are  generally  carried  much  beyond 

*  It  need  not  be  said  what  his  own  subsequent  opinion  was  ol 
these  charges.  They  fall  under  the  censure  implied  in  the  first 
sentence  of  this  letter,  concerning  the  doctrines  of  "  the  method- 
ists." 

^  Query  :  firactical  .'' 


1775 — 1777,]         RELIGIOUS  views.  113 

the  truths   and  degenerate  into  fiinaticism,  and  partake 
of  their  other  notions.  .  .  .'' 

The  birth  of  my  father's  two  eldest  chddren,  at  Ra- 
venstone,  has  been  ah^eady  mentioned.  Perhaps  I  shall 
be  excused^  if,  for  the  sake  of  introducing  a  characteris- 
tic paragraph,  I  bring  myself  a  little  more  distinctly  into 
notice.  The  next  letter  to  his  sister,  dated  April  15, 
1777,  contains  the  following  passage  : 

"  As  to  my  boy,  he  is  already  dedicated  to  the  minis- 
try, if  it  please  God  to  spare  his  life,  and  mine,  and  to 
give  him  a  head  and  heart  meet  for  so  sacred  and  impor- 
tant a  function.  Should  he  be  defective  in  either  one  or 
the  other,  he  shall  be  any  thing  or  nothing  rather  than 
that.  Bad  ministers  we  have  enough,  and  much  more 
than  enough  :  but  good  ones  are  a  sort  of  black  swans, 
mighty  great  rarities. — It  was  with  this  intent  that  I 
wished  the  child  to  be  a  boy  ;  and  with  this  intent  I  shall, 
God  willing,  always  educate  him  :  and,  if  he  lives  to  be 
a  pious,  faithful,  able,  and  useful  minister  of  the  gospel, 
I  ask  no  higher  preferment  for  him,  than  I  now  have  mv- 
self :  so  contented  am  I  with  my  own  lot,  and  so  totally 
indifferent  about  these  lesser  matters. ^^ 

"  At  this  time,''  my  father  proceeds  in  his  memoir, 
''  I  had  not  the  most  distant  prospect  of  preferment  ; 
my  expectation  of  adding  to  my  scanty  income  by  pupils 
was  terminated  ;  and,  considering  the  character  of  my 
vicar,  and  the  determined  opposition  of  my  former  rector, 
I  had  little  prospect  of  retaining  my  curacy.  Yet,  with 
an  increasing  family,  I  seldom  felt  any  anxiety  about  a 
provision  :  and  my  wife,  who  had  married  with  differ- 
ent prospects,  fully  concurred  with  me.  She  would  say, 
•  Only  act  according  to  the  dictates  af  your  own  con- 
science ;  we  shall  doubtles  be  provided  for  :'  yet^  when 

P 


114  CHANGE  OF  HIS  RELHilOUS   VIEAVh.     [CUAP.  IV. 

she  saw.  as  she  frequently  did.  that  my  eager  spirit  and 
violent  temper  were  hui'rying  me  into  wrong  measures, 
she  unilbrndy  checked  me  :  and,  though  often  not  till  af- 
ter much  opposition  on  my  part,  she  always  carried  her 
point  with  me  ;  to  my  unspeakable  benefit. 

"  After  I  had  written  my  sermons  for  the  Sunday,  I, 
for  a  long  time,  constantly  read  them  to  her  before  they 
were  preached  :  and,  at  her  instance,  I  altered  many 
things,  especially  in  exchanging  words,  unintelligible  to 
labourei^  and  lace-makers,  for  simpler  language.  This 
induced  a  habit  of  familiar  speaking  in  the  pulpit,  which 
has  since  been  censured,  probably  with  justice,  as  too  col- 
loquial.'' 

It  may  here  be  added,  that  my  fathers  practice  of  ex- 
temporary preaching  commenced  from  these  private  re- 
hearsals of  his  sermons  before  they  were  preached. 
Something  had  occurred  in  the  parish  to  which  he  thought 
it  right  to  allude  in  the  pulpit :  but,  on  his  reciting  to 
my  mother  the  sermon  which  he  had  prepared,  she  ob- 
jected to  it,  and  brouglit  him  over  to  her  opinion.  He 
in  consequciiice  laid  aside  the  discourse,  and  was  thus,  on 
the  Saturday  evening,  left  without  one  for  the  next  day. 
This  induced  him  to  address  his  congregation  without 
written  preparation  ;  and,  succeeding  in  the  attempt,  he 
I'cpeated  it,  and  by  degrees  discontinued  the  use  of  writ- 
ten sermons.  This  change,  however,  was  not  made  with- 
out severe  effort.  An  old  parishioner  at  Weston  (lately 
deceased.)  mentioned  well  remembering  his  sitting  down 
in  a  kind  of  despair,  and  exclaiming,  *  It  does  not  signify, 
it  is  impossible  that  I  should  ever  be  able  to  preach  ex 
tempore.' 


1777 1779.]  PUBLICATION OFTHEFORCEOFTRUTH.  115 


4^ 


CHAPTER  V. 


TO  THE  PERIOD  OF  THE  PUBLICATION  OF  THE  FORCE  OF 

TRUTH. 

"  In  the  spring,  1777,  I  removed  to  Weston  Under- 
wood, to  a  house  afterwards  well  known,  under  the  name 
of  the  Lodge,  as  the  residence  of  the  poet  Cowper.  The 
ground  intended  for  the  garden,  when  I  came  to  it,  more 
resembled  a  stone-quarry  :  but  by  my  personal  labour  it 
was  brought  into  order,  and  several  fine  fruit-  trees,  now  '  | 
growing  in  it,  w^ere  of  my  planting. 

"  In  August  following  my  father  died.  He  seemed  to 
be  well  satisfied  at  my  becoming  a  clergyman  :  but  my  new 
views  of  the  doctrines  of  Christianity  did  not  meet  his 
approbation.  In  answer  to  what  I  had  written  on  this 
subject,  I  received  a  letter  very  hostile  to  my  sentiments, 
and  full  of  Socinian  principles.  This  greatly  affected 
me,  and  I  wrote  an  answer  with  many  tears  and  prayers  : 
but  he  never  saw  it,  as  he  was  dying  when  it  arrived. 
On  receiving  information  of  his  sickness,  I  set  off  imme- 
diately to  visit  him,  but  I  did  not  reach  his  house  (distant 
more  than  a  hundred  miles,)  till  after  his  funeral. 

"  Every  circumstance,  on  this  mournful  occasion,  con- 
curred to  depress  my  spirits  ;  and  I  appeared  so  dejected 
and  melancholy  among  my  relations,  and  my  former 
neighbours,  who  had  always  before  been  pleased  with  my 


-%^ 


116  AT  WESTOX  UNDKRWOOD    111.1.    rilL   [CllAP.    V. 

chcci'fiilncss,  (tliongli  alas !  it  was  in  great  measure  as- 
sumed and  affected.)  that  my  reli,^ious  principles  bore 
the  blame,  and  their  prejudices  against  them  were  much 
incj*eased.'' 

In  a  letter  dated  April  15th  of  this  year,  he  had  tlius 
adverted  to  his  lather's  religious  sentiments.  '^  I  am 
gi'ieved  whenever  I  think  of  some  notions  my  lather  used 
to  hold,  which  are  so  directly  contrary  to  true  Christian 
doctrine,  and  grounded  on  self-dependence,  which  most 
assuredly  is  destructive  of  the  whole  scheme  of  justifica- 
tion through  Christ.  He  has  given  me  permission  to 
write  on  these  subjects  ;  and  I  have  written  several  let- 
tei's  already,  which  must  I  think  convince  him,  that  man 
has  no  ground  to  hope  for  acceptance  with  God  on  his 
own  occount,  or  through  his  own  poor  deservings.  It  is 
amazing  to  consider  what  havoc  this  self-dependence 
makes  among  the  Christian  duties.  Gratitude  for  abun- 
dant mercies  received,  and  praise  and  thanksgiving  in  con- 
sequence ;  prayer  to  God  for  forgi\  eness,  for  assistance, 
and  for  acceptance  ;  in  short,  every  part  of  piety  and  the 
love  of  God  suffers  exceedingly  from  these  notions  :  and 
so  doth  humility,  which  is  of  all  others  the  most  needful 
to  our  acceptance  with  God,  w-ho  rcsistcth  theproud^  and 
givcth  his  grace  unto  the  humble.  Indeed  I  cannot  con- 
ceive that  a  man  can  become  a  Christian,  who  does  not 
feel  that  he  is  a  ])Oor  lost  sinner,  that  has  no  hope  but 
from  God's  mercy  in  Christ.  My  brothei;,  I  am  of  opi- 
nion, disapproves  this  way  of  writing  :  but  I  do  it,  I  am 
sure,  from  the  best  of  motives,  and  would  rather  convince 
my  father  of  his  errors  in  this  respect,  than  acquire  a  very 
large  sum  of  money — aye,  than  obtain  any  worldly  ad- 
\antage  whatsoever. '' 

In  the  same  letter  he  thus  notices  his  approaching  re- 
juoval  to  Weston  :   "\  have  scarcely  room   to   tell    vou. 


1777 1779. ]PUBLlCAtlON  OF  THE  FORCE  OF  TRUTH.  117 

that  we  are  to  remove  to  Weston^  to  a  line  lioiise^  lit  for 
a  squire,  and  other  people  are  to  pay  the  rent.  This 
(obtaining  of  a  house  at  Weston)  I  heartily  thank  God  for, 
as  I  am  placed  in  a  neighbourhood  where  every  body 
vies  in  kindness  to  me  ;  and  where  I  have  the  pleasing- 
prospect  of  doing  much  good.  Assure  yourself,  dear 
sister,  that  God  will  raise  up  friends,  and  provide  for  all 
who  trust  in  him,  and  serve  him.^' 

The  death  of  his  mother  took  place  the  28th  of  Octo- 
ber following.  The  event  appears  to  have  come  upon 
him  unexpectedly.  He  was  to  have  received  a  visit  from 
her,  which  he  had  hoped  might  promote  her  spiritual  in- 
terests, but  she  was  not  able  to  undertake  the  journey  ; 
and  it  seems  not  to  have  been  till  the  29th  of  October, 
(the  day  after  her  decease,)  that  he  was  apprized  of  her 
danger,  or  had  the  opportunity  of  writing  to  her  on  the 
subject.  In  a  letter  to  his  elder  sister  of  that  date,  en- 
closing one  to  his  mother,  he  says  :  "  God  knows  my 
iieart,  I  have  no  sentiments  respecting  either  you  or  her, 
or  any  of  the  family,  but  those  of  love  and  affection,  and 
am  exceedingly  sorry  that  my  undesigned  negligence" 
(he  had  written  a  letter  which  had  slipped  behind  his 
bureau,  and  was  never  sent,)  ''  should  cause  any  uneasi- 
ness to  one,  to  whom  I  wish  most  sincerely  every  possi- 
ble good,  and  whom  I  most  heartily  pray  to  God  to  bless 

with  every  blessing  here  and  hereafter Though 

I  sincerelv  wish  every  branch  of  the  fa  mil  v  may  contend, 
who  shall  shew  our  common  and  only  remaiiiing  parent 
the  most  tenderness  and  attention,  yet  I  would  not  have 
it  such  a  contest  as  to  disturb,  in  the  least,  that  mutual 
love  and  harmony,  which  I  wish,  and  sha.ll  ever  endea- 
vour to  preserve  amongst  ourselves." 

About  the  time  of  my  father's  remo\'al  to  Weston,  his 
intercourse  with  Mr-    Newton,  which   had  been  almost 


118  AT  WKSTOX  UNDERWOOD  TILL  THK    [ChAP.  V. 

wijolly  broken  ofT  since  the  termination  of  their  corres- 
pondence in  Deceml)er  1775,  was  renewed.  Under  dis- 
couraging circnmstances,"'  he  tells  us  in  the  •  Foixie  of 
Truth.'  he  ••  had  occasion  to  call  upon  Mr.  N.,  and  was 
so  comforted  and  edified  hy  his  discourse,  that  his  heart, 
being  by  this  means  relieved  of  its  burden,  became  sus- 
ceptible of  afiection  for  him.  From  that  time/'  he  says, 
*•  1  was  inwardly  pleased  to  have  him  for  my  friend ; 
though  not,  as  now,  rejoiced  to  call  him  so.'' 

The  narrative  proceeds :  "  About  170/.  eventually 
came  to  me  by  my  father's  death  ;  which,  by  annual 
small  deductions  beyond  the  interest,  was  gradually  ex- 
htinsted.  I  had  indeed,  at  that  time,  to  struggle  with 
many  difiiculties  ;  but  I  met  with  unexpected  helps,  and 
still  kept  up  my  credit,  though  not  free  from  debt. 

*'•  1  had  frequent  attacks  of  sickness:  and,  after  one 
lono;  and  dangerous  illness,  which  had  occasioned  heavy 
additional  ex])ences,  my  wife,  who  was  seldom  disposed 
to  distrust  providence,  lamented  to  me  the  increase  of 
our  debts,  as  the  medical  charges  amounted  to  above  10/. 
It  was  my  tnrn.  on  this  occasion,  to  be  the  stronger  in 
faith ;  and  I  answered  confidently,  '  Now  observe  if  the 
Lord  do  not,  in  some  way,  send  us  an  additional  supply 
to  meet  this  expence,  which  it  was  not  in  our  power  to 
avoid.'  I  had.  at  the  time,  no  idea  of  any  source  from 
which  this  additional  supply  was  to  be  derived  :  but,  in 
the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  when  I  was  visiting  my 
people,  Mr.  Higgins,  jun.  called  at  my  house  and  left  a 
paper,  which  he  said,  when  I  had  filled  u])  the  blanks, 
would  intitle  me  to  10/.  from  a  sum  of  money  left  for  the 
relief  of  poor  clergymen.  This  I  never  received  at  any 
other  time,  nor  can  1  recollect  the  source  from  which  it 
rame." 

The  remarks  v  lijch  I  would  make  upon  this  incident 


I  777 1779.]  PUBLICATION  OFTHE  FORCE  OF  TRUTH.  119 

are  the  following  :  That^  whatever  may  be  thought  of  it, 
the  fact  no  doubt  happened  as  here  related  :  that  my  fa- 
ther was  by  no  means  disposed  to  expect  extraordinary 
interpositions  of  providence^  or  to  make  a  display  of 
them  when  they  appeared  to  take  place  :  that  it  is  by 
no  means  uncommon  for  good  men,  of  the  most  sober  minds, 
circumstanced  as  he  was,  to  meet  with  such  occurrences  ; 
which  form  one,  among  many  means,  of  rendering  their 
scanty  supplies  a  source  of  greater  enjoyment,  than  the 
more  ample  provision  of  their  richer  brethren  frequently 
proves  :  and,  finally,  that  I  believe  every  careful  observer 
will  find  remarkable  coincidences  in  the  course  of  events, 
which  he  will  feel  it  right  to  note,  as  subjects  of  grateful 
remembrance  to  himself,  whether  he  deem  it  proper  to 
communicate  them  to  others  or  not. — "  Whoso  is  wise 
will  ponder  these  things  :  and  they  shall  understand  the 
loving- kindness  of  the  Lord." 

"  About  this  time,''  he  proceeds,  "  I  began,  with 
great  caution,  to  administer  medical  assistance  to  a  few  of 
my  poor  neighbours,  and  Mr.  (now  Dr.)  Kerr,  of  North- 
ampton^, bestowed  some  pains  in  directing  my  proceed- 
ings :  for  he  felt,  as  I  have  always  done,  that  the  poor 
in  country  villages  are  under  great  and  pitiable  disadvan- 
tages in  this  respect,  which  no  humanity  of  their  neigh- 
bours, without  medical  skill,  can  prevent.  I  had  before 
paid  some  attention  to  the  study  of  medicine  ;  and  now. 
having  so  eminently  skilful  an  adviser  ready  to  give  me 
counsel  and  aid,  I  made  progress  ;  and,  being  always  cau- 
tious not  to  act  beyond  my  knowledge,  I  had  great  suc- 
cess at  small  expence.  It  may  not  be  impertinent  to  re- 
mark, that,  from  that  time  to  the  present,  I  have  constant- 

*  Still    practising  there  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  his  powers, 
though  many  years  older  than  my  father. 


\.iO  AT   U'liSTON  LNDKinVOOl)  TILL  TIIK    [CliAP.  V. 

ly  had  mcdir.al  advice  for  myself  and  my  family  gratis; 
and  my  annual  charge  for  medicines,  including  those  dis- 
trihuted  to  the  poor,  has  been  less,  on  an  average,  than 
n»y  apotliecary's  hill  used  previously  to  he. 

^"Concerning  the  progress  of  my  mind  at  tl.is  time,  in 
it  its  religious  inquiries,  I  need  not  add  to  what  I  have 
written  in  the  •  Force  of  Truth."' 

From  that  narrative  we  may  observe,  that  this  year, 
1777,  was  marked  as  bringing  his  religious  inquiries  to  a 
decisive  result,  and  giving  somewhat  of  mature  form  to 
his  scheme  of  doctrine.  In  the  course  of  it  his  views 
were  cleared  up,  and  his  sentiments  established,  suc- 
cessively, upon  the  doctrines  of  the  atonement,  human 
depravity,  the  Trinity,  justification,  the  work  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  finally,  on  that  of  personal  election. 
Now  also  he  was  enabled,  after  many  conflicts  with  him- 
self, to  make  his  last  and  most  trying  sacrifice,  that  of 
reputation  :  and  calmly,  yea,  cheerfully,  to  submit  to 
••  suffer  reproach,''  and  to  be  accounted,  "  a  fool  for 
Christ's  sake."  From  about  the  close  of  this  year,  he 
began  with  profit  to  hear  Mr.  Newton  preach  ;  and, 
being  established  in  the  belief  of  the  great  truths  of  the 
gospel,  to  cherish  their  proper  influence  upon  his  own 
heart  and  life. 

Some  further  extracts  from  an  interesting  letter  to  his 
elder  sister,  of  the  13th  of  April  in  this  year,  parts  of 
which  have  been  already  inserted,  may  bear  both  on  the 
facts  just  related  and  on  those  w  hich  are  next  to  follow. 

"  It  is  an  uncommon  degree  of  fortitude  to  be  able  to 
set  one's  face  against  the  world,  and  to  act  contrary  to  its 
received  maxims  and  customs.  The  soldier,  who  is  bold 
as  a  lion  in  the  day  of  battle,  turns  coward  here  ;  and 
dares  not  refuse  a  challenge,  though  his  reason,  his  reli- 
gion, the  law^s  of  the  land,  and  his  own   iuclinatioiu  are 


1777 1779.]  PUBLICATION  OF  THE  FORCE  OP  TRUTH.  121 

all  directly  contrary  to  it :  though  his  life  and  soul  are  at 
stake.  Such  a  tyrant  is  custom  !  Who  dare  oppose 
him  ?  I  will  tell  you  who  :  the  confirmed  Christian. 
Who  is  he  that  overcometh  the  world?  Even  he  that 
believeth  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God.  And  this  the 
victory^  even  our  faith.  These  are  the  only  men  who 
ever  dare  to  obey  God  rather  than  man^  where  the 
two  are  in  direct  opposition.  But  it  is  not  every  Chris- 
tian^ no^  nor  every  good  and  pious  Christian^  who  can  thus 
courageously  act^  and  undauntedly  follow  the  dictates  of 
conscience,  when  friends,  relations,  and  all  those  whom 
one  has  been  used  to  reverence  and  love,  are  of  a  contra- 
ry opinion  ;  especially  if  the  case  be  dubious,  and  much 
may  be  said  on  both  sides.  This  is  the  last  victory  the 
Christian  gains.  He  will  master,  by  that  grace  which  is 
given  of  God,  his  own  lusts  and  passions,  and  all  manner 
of  inward  and  outward  temptations  ;  he  will  be  dead  to 
the  interest,  pleasures,  and  diversions  of  the  world  ;  and 
his  affections  will  be  earnestly  set  upon  things   above  ; 

long  before  he  has  mastered  this  fear  of  men Here 

I  find  my  own  deficiency,  as  much  or  more  than  in  any 
other  respect :  and  often  I  feel  an  inward  timidity,  when 
about  to  preach  an  unpopular  doctrine,  or  expose  a  foi- 
ble which  some  one  of  my  congregation,  whom  I  other- 
wise love  and  esteem,  is  remarkable  for  :  and  in  every 
instance  I  feel  the  greatest  reluctancy  to  resign  the  good 
opinion,  or  act  contrary  to  the  judgment  of  those  for 
whom  I  have  an  esteem.  It  is  true  I  am  peculiarly  bound 
to  strive  against  this,  by  reason  of  my  ministerial  office. 
I  am  to  speak  boldly,  not  as  a  man-pleaser^  hut  as  the 
servant  of  God:  and  therefore  I  endeavour  to  master  all 
these  fears,  and  to  act  implicitly  as  my  conscience  sug- 
gests, without  respect  of  persons.  Conformity  to  others 
In  things  unchristian,  the  fear  of  men,  a  servile  spirit  of 

Q 


122  AT  WESTON  UNDEnWOrtD  TIM.  THE       [ChAP.  V. 

time-serving,  &c.  are  the  faults  of  ministers,  and  effec- 
tually hinder  even  those  who  desire  it,  from  performing 
the  most  important  parts  of  their  ministry,  hoth  in  pub- 
lic preaching,  and  hy  private  application.  But  this  kind 
of  spirit  goeth  not  out  but  by  a  very  spiritual  and  devout 
coulee  of  life.  Indeed  its  expulsion  is  the  gift  of  God, 
and  is  to  be  specially  sought  for  from  him.  .  .  .  To  betray 
the  more  important,  in  order  to  secure  the  lesser  interest, 
is  a  thing  I  could  not  do  ;  and  1  have  too  great  an  opinion 
of  your  sincerity  in  your  profession  as  a  Christian,  to 
think  you  would  wish  it.  But  perfection  is  not  attaina- 
ble here  ;  and,  had  we  nothing  else  to  trust  to  for  accep- 
tance with  God,  but  our  Ovvn  imperfect  righteousness, 
we  should  have  little  to  support  us,  and  should  have  a 
strong  temptation  to  despair,  as  soon  as  ever  we  became 
acquainted  with  the  strictness  of  God's  law  and  our  ovvn 
transgressions  of  it,  daily  and  hourly  repeated.  But? 
thank  God,  the  wound  is  no  sooner  given,  than  the  rem- 
edy is  applied  :  our  self-dependence,  is  no  sooner  un- 
dermined, than  we  are  supplied  with  a  more  sure  ground 
of  dependence,  even  the  merits  and  sufferings  of  our 
crucified  Redeemer. — May  you  and  I,  and  all  ours,  have, 
by  true,  lively,  humble  faith,  an  interest  in  him  !" 

The  next  occurrence,  recorded  in  the  memoir,  raark« 
the  faithfulness  with  which  my  father  was  now  discharg- 
ing the  duties  of  his  ministry,  not  only  in  the  congrega- 
tion, but  towards  his  parishioners  individually  ;  and  the 
success  of  an  attempt,  which  could  not  be  made  but  at  a 
considerable  expence  of  feeling,  may  encourage  others 
not  to  decline  such  services. 

^^  In  the  summer  of  this  year  (1777)  Mr.  Higgins- 
who  was  formerly  mentioned,  returned  from  London  in  a 
very  bad  state  of  health,  and  I  soon  found  that  his  disor- 
der was  dropsy  5  the   symptoms  of  which  afforded  no 


1777 1779.  J  PUBLICATION  OF  THE  FORCE  OF  TRUTH.  123 

hopes  of  his  recovery,  or  long  continuance  in  life  :  yet 
no  one  gave  him  the  least  intimation  of  his  danger.  I 
could  not  consider  him  as  in  a  decidedly  prepared  state  : 
nay,  I  greatly  doubted  his  experimental  acquaintance 
with  religion.  He  was  my  superior  and  benefactor. 
He  was  old,  and  I  was  young.  I  knew  not  how  to  act  : 
but  I  could  have  no  peace  without  attempting  something. 
After  much  consideration  and  prayer,  therefore,  I  wrote 
to  him,  in  tne  kindest  and  most  grateful  manner  I  could ; 
but  plainly  informing  him  what  the  physicians  thought  of 
his  disease,  and  not  obscurely  intimating  my  fears  in  res- 
pect of  his  immortal  soul.  I  was  greatly  afraid  that  some 
of  the  family  would  be  offended  at  this  proceeding,  espe- 
cially if  he  himself  should  not  take  it  well.  But  he  ex- 
pressed great  approbation  and  thankfulness ;  and  I  was 
I'equested  to  visit  him  daily  as  a  minister  :  which  I  did;, 
conversing  very  plainly  with  him,  and  always  concluding 
with  prayer.  He  heard  me  attentively  ;  was  at  times 
aifected ;  and  always  seemed  pleased  with  my  assiduity, 
though  he  spoke  little.  His  end  proved  to  be  nearer 
than  any  one  expected,  and  he  expired  suddenly  in  his 
chair,  without  saying  any  thing  particular.  I  however 
had  done  my  duty  :  I  trust  my  endeavours  were  made 
useful  to  his  widow  ;  and  certainly  I  lost  no  favour  by 
my  honesty — which  is  not,  in  such  cases,  by  any  means 
so  perilous  as  we  are  often  apt  to  suppose  it. — I  was  also 
desired  to  write  an  inscription  for  his  monument,  which 
was,  to  me,  a  very  difficult  task  :  but  I  was  enabled  to 
execute  it  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  parties  concerned. 

"  In  the  former  part  of  my  life  T  had  been  exceeding- 
ly fond  of  cards.  Indeed  I  showed  a  propensity  to  gam- 
ing, from  which  many  bad  consequences  had  been  fore- 
boded :  but  ill  success  on  one  occasion,  long  before  I  at- 


124  AT  WESTON  UNDERWOOD  TILL  THE       [ChaP.  V, 

tended  to    religion,    had   rescued  me  from  this :   and,  at 
the  time  of  which  I  am   now  writing,  1  had  lost  all  my 
relish   for  the  diversion  of  cards,   and  every  other  of  a 
similar   nature.     I,   however,    occasionally  joined    in  a 
game,  from  an  idea  that  too  great  preciseness  might  pre- 
judice my  neighbours  :  and  I  was  then  of  opinion,  that 
there  was  no  harm  in  the  practice,  though  it  seemed  a  fri- 
volous way  of  spending  time,     \fclt  it  also  a  very  awk- 
ward transition  to  remove  the  card-table,  and  introduce 
the  Bible  and  family   worship  ;  though  I  never  omitted 
tliis  service  at  home,   and  commonly  proposed   it  in  my 
visits.     My  fetters  were,    however,  broken   effectually, 
and  at  once,  about  January  1778,  in  the  following  manner. 
Being  on  a  visit  to  one  of  my  parishioners  at  Ravenstone, 
I  walked  out  after  dinner,  as  was  my  common  practice  on 
such  occasions,  to  visit  some  of  my  poor  people  ;  when 
one  of  them  (the  first  person,  as  far  as  I  know,  to  whom  my 
ministry  had  been  made  decidedly  useful,)  said  to  me, 
'  I  have  something  which  I  wish  to  say  to  you,  but  I  am 
afraid  you  may  be  offended.'     I  answered,   that  I  could 
not  promise,  but  I  hoped  I  should  not.     She  then   said, 
^  You  know  A.  B.  :   he  has  lately  appeared  attentive  to 
religion,  and  has  spoken  to  me  concerning  the  sacrament : 
but  last  night  he,  with  C.  D.  and  some  others,  met  to 
keep  Christmas  ;  and    they    played  at  cards,  drank  too 
much,  and  in  the  end  quarrelled,  and  raised  a  sort  of  riot. 
And  when  I  remonstrated  with  him  on  his  conduct,  as  in- 
consistent with    his    professed  attention  to  religion,  his 
answer  w  as,  There  is  no  harm  in  cards  :  Mr.  Scott  plays 
at  cards  !' — This  smote  me  to  the  heart.     I  saw  that, 
if  I  played  at  cards,  however  soberly  and  quietly,   the 
people  w^ould  be  encouraged  by  my  example  to  go  fur- 
ther :  and,  if  St.    Paul  would    cat   no  Jlesh   while  the 
ivorld  stood,  rathe?'  than  cause  his  weak   brother  to  of- 


1777 1779.]  PUBLICATION  OF  THE  FORCE  OF  TRUTH.  l25 

fendj  it  would  be  inexcusable  in  me  to  throw  such  a 
stumbling-block  in  the  way  of  my  parishioners,  in  a  mat- 
ter certainly  neither  needful  nor  expedient.  So  far 
from  being  offended  at  the  hint  thus  given  me,  I  felt  very 
thankful  to  my  faithful  monitor,  and  promised  her  that 
she  should  never  have  occasion  to  repeat  the  admonition. 
That  very  evening  I  related  the  whole  matter  to  the  com- 
pany, and  declared  my  fixed  resolution  never  to  play  at 
cards  again.  I  expected  that  I  should  be  harrassed  with 
solicitations ;  but  I  was  never  asked  to  play  afterwards. 
Let  me  therefore  from  my  own  experience,  as  well  as 
from  the  reason  of  the  case,  urge  persons,  from  their  first 
entrance  upon  a  religious  course,  when  asked  to  do  any 
thing  which  they  disapprove,  fairly  to  state  their  disap- 
probation as  a  point  of  conscience.  For  not  only  is  this 
most  becoming  those  in  whom  there  is  no  guile^  but  it  is 
also  by  far  the  most  prudent  proceeding.  If  they  assign 
roasons  drawn  only  from  local  and  temporary  circumstan- 
ces, when  those  circumstances  are  changed,  they  will  be 
pressed  again  and  again  with  redoubled  earnestness ; 
whereas,  if  they  once  fairly  declare  their  refusal  to  be  the 
result  of  deliberate  consideration,  and  the  dictate  of  con- 
science, the  hope  of  prevaling  upon  them  will  be  given 
up,  and  they  will  save  themselves  great  trouble  and  dan- 
ger. 

"  Let  me  also  observe,  that  the  minister,  who  would 
not  have  his  people  give  into  such  worldly  conformity  as 
he  disapproves,  must  keep  at  a  considerable  distance  from 
it  himself.  If  he  walk  near  the  brink,  others  will  fall 
down  the  precipice. — When  I  first  attended  seriously 
to  religion,  I  used  sometimes,  when  I  had  a  journey  to 
perform  on  the  next  day,  to  ride  a  stage  in  the  evening, 
after  the  services  of  the  sabbath  ;  and  I  trust  my  time  on 
horseback  was  not  spent  unprofitably.     But  I  soon  found 


126  AT  AVESTON  UNDERWOOD  TILL  THE    [ChAP.  V, 

that  this  I'urnishcd  an  excuse  to  some  of  my  parishioners, 
Tor  employing  a  considerable  part  of  the  Lord's  day  in 
jonrneys  of  business  or  convenience.  I  need  scarcely 
add,  that  I  immediately  abandoned  the  practice,  on  the 
same  ground  on  which  I  resolved  never  more  to  play  at 
cards,  even  before  I  thought  so  unfavourably  of  them  as 
I  now  do. 

'^  In  this  connexion  I  may  take  occasion  to  mention 
my  estrangement  from  another  favourite  diversion,  at  a 
still  earlier  period.  In  the  former  part  of  my  life,  I  had 
been  extravagantly  fond  of  seeing  plays  acted,  even  in 
the  rude  manner  in  which  they  are  performed  in  country 
places.  Hence  I  anticipated  the  highest  pleasure  from 
visitinp;  a  London  theatre.  But  I  never  went  more  than 
ence  :  for  I  witnessed  so  much  folly  and  wickedness,  and 
heard  so  much  profaneness  and  ribaldry,  both  from  the 
stage,  and  in  other  parts  of  the  theatre,  that  I  resolved,  on 
leaving  the  house,  never  to  go  to  a  play  again. — Yet  this 
was  in  April  1773,  before  my  mind  was  in  any  material 
degree  turned  towards  religion,  and  nearly  five  years 
previously  to  my  giving  up  cards.* 

^^My  unreserved,  and  often,  no  doubt,  forward  and 
rash  avowal  of  the  change  which  had  taken  place  in  my 
religious  views  and  purposes,  soon  induced  most  of  my 
former  acquaintances  to  avoid  me.  Thus  I  escaped  hear- 
ing the  scoffs  and  reproaches  which  were  uttered  against 
me  in  a])undance  behind  my  back  ;  and  was  also  exempt- 
ed from  many  temptations  :  but,  perhaps,  I  at  the  same 
time  lost  some  openings  for  usefulness,  which  might  have 
been  afforded  me.  One  clergyman,  however,  who  pos- 
sessed more   doctrinal  knowledge  than  many,  and  with 

*  1  would  refer  the  reader  for  the  most  forcible  observations 
on  the  theatre,  that  I  have  any  where  met  with,  to  Mr.  Pearson's 
Life  of  Mr.  Hey,  part  ii.  p.  242,  8cs. 


1777 1779.]  PUBLICATION  OF  THE  FORCE  OFTRUTH.  127 

whom  I  had  been  somewhat  intimate,  would  not  thus 
give  me  up. — My  time  was  much  occupied  with  study 
and  the  preparation  of  sermons ;  (for  I  preached  and  lec- 
tured five  times  in  the  week, — three  of  which  were  gra- 
tuitous services  ;)  so  that  trifling  visitors  were  very  un- 
welcome :  but,  as  this  clergyman  frequently  visited  at 
Mrs.  Throckmorton's,  (the  Roman  catholic  family  resi- 
dent in  the  village,)  when  he  had  nothing  to  engage  him 
at  the  Hall,  he  used  to  call  upon  me  in  the  forenoons,  and 
try  to  enter  into  dispute  with  me  on  the  doctrines  of  the 
gospel ;  especially  the  high  points  usually  denominated 
Calvinistic.  Finding  this  very  unprofitable,  I  one  day 
said  to  him  :  '  You  are  not,  I  presume,  aware,  Sir,  that 
we  differ  more  in  our  sentiments  on  practical  subjects,  than 
even  with  respect  to  these  doctrines.'  So  far  from  allow- 
ing this,  he  maintained,  that  on  such  subjects  we  were 
perfectly  agreed  :  while  I,  to  support  my  position,  read 
him  a  lecture  on  the  duties  of  a  clergyman,  according  to 
my  views  of  them.  I  pointed  out  what  the  minister's 
motives  and  aim  ought  to  be  ;  and  how  his  time  ought  to 
be  divided,  between  his  studies  (especially  the  study  of 
the  holy  scriptures, )  and  private  devotion  ;  preparing  his 
his  sermons  ;  catechizing  children ;  instructing  the  igno- 
rant ;  visiting  the  sick  ;  and  conversing  with  his  people. 
I  hence  inferred,  that  the  consistent  clergyman  could  have 
no  time  to  spare  for  unprofitable  visits  and  vain  diver- 
sions ;  and  but  little  for  any  visits,  except  in  subserviency 
to  religious  edification  and  usefulness.  '  And  now, 
Sir,'  I  said  at  the  conclusion,  '  do  we  not  differ  on  this 
practical  subject,  at  least  as  much  as  respecting  justifica- 
tion or  election  ?'  He  had  no  answer  to  make  ;  and  he 
never  more  came  to  interrupt  my  studies.  I  am  sorry  to 
add,  that  no  further  good  effect  was  produced. 

"  My  vicar  at  Ravenstone,  in  proportion  as  I  became 


128  AT  WESTON  UNDERWOOD  TILL  THE    [CuAP.  V. 

more  decided  in  my  views,  .ind  especially  more  instant  in 
preaching,  increasing  the  length,  as  well  as  the  frequency, 
of  my  sermons ;  hoth  of  his  own  instance,  and  as  excited 
by  others,  shewed  more  marked  opposition  to  my  pro- 
ceedings. Sometimes  his  opposition  assumed  an  angry 
and  menacing  form,  and,  alas  !  more  than  once  produced 
in  me  reciprocal  anger  :  yet  my  arguments  from  our  Li- 
turgy and  Articles  always  proved  to  him  unanswerable. 
At  other  times  his  tone  was  more  playful  and  jocose.  One 
day  he  remonstrated  with  me  on  the  length  of  my  ser- 
mons, (which  fell  not  much  short  of  an  hour;)  and  he 
mentioned  by  name  several  clergymen  who  preached 
twenty,  fifteen,  twelve,  or  even  ten  minutes.  My  an- 
swer was,  that  I  feared  they  were  in  jest ;  but  I  was  in 
earnest. — On  another  occasion  he  objected  to  my  writing 
so  many  new  sermons ;  principally,  I  believe,  because  he 
had  been  used  to  be  diverted  by  my  company,  and  my 
time  was  now  otherwise  engaged.  He  observed  that,  for 
his  own  part,  when  he  was  ordained,  he  had  written  fif- 
ty-four or  fifty-five  sermons,  and  they  liad  served  him 
very  well  ever  since, — though  he  had  been  above  fifty 
years  in  orders.  I  remarked,  that  I  hoped  he  had,  dur- 
ing that  long  period,  grown  much  wiser  :  but  that  he  had 
effectually  precluded  his  people  from  profiting  by  his  im- 
provement ! 

"  In  this  way,  sometimes  by  argument,  and  sometimes 
by  replies  half  serious  and  half  playful,  I  maintained  my 
ground  :  till  at  length  tlte  old  gentleman  was  so  im- 
pressed by  what  he  heard  and  saw,  that  he  forbore, 
for  a  time,  all  opposition  :  vindicated  me  against  cen- 
sure ;  wept  frequently  under  my  sermons  ;  and  was 
found  uniformly,  when  we  called  upon  him,  reading  the 
scriptures  :  so  that  the  most  sanguine  hopes  were  en- 
tertained concerning  him.  But,  alas !  it  was  the  inorn- 


1777 1779.]  PUBLICATION  OF  THE  FORCE  OF  TRUTH.  129 

ing  cloudy  and  the  early  dew  which  passeth  away.  The 
whole  gradually  wore  off,  and  terminated  in  a  sort  of 
sceptical,  sneering  apathy.  He  continued,  however, 
much  attached  to  me,  and  did  not  object  to  my  views 
of  Christianity  :  and  I  only  speak  what  many  thought 
and  said,  when  I  state,  that  it  seemed  probable,  that, 
by  a  little  politic  management,  I  might  have  inherited  his 
property.  But  by  nature  I  was  too  proud  for  such  an 
attempt ;  and,  I  hope,  through  grace  I  was  become  too 
conscientious  to  make  the  requisite  concessions.  I  how- 
ever retained  the  curacy^  till,  much  against  his  wishes,  I 
voluntarily  resigned  it. 

"  After  some  time  a  house  at  Weston  belonging  to  Mr. 
C.  Higgins  became  vacant,  and  was  offered  me  at  less  than 
half  the  rent*  (of  12/.)  which  I  had  previously  paid  :  and 
I  accordingly  removed  to  it. — In  this  village  two  sons 
were  born  to  me,  one  of  whom  died  an  infant,  and  the 
other,  of  the  same  name,  (Thomas,)  is  now  minister  of 
the  episcopal  chapel  of  Gawcott,  in  the  parish  of  Buck- 
ingham. Some  time  after  I  removed  to  the  house  just 
mentioned,  I  had  three  children  living  :  but  two  were 
taken  from  me  within  a  very  short  time,  and  John,  the 
only  surviving  one,  was  so  dangerously  ill,  that  his  life 
was  not  expected.  My  heart  was  overwhelmed  :  but, 
after  very  much  prayer,  I  felt  my  will  submissive,  and 
was  resigned  to  part  with  him  also,  unless  it  should  please 
God  to  spare  him  to  do  some  good  in  the  world.  He  short- 
ly after  recovered ;  and,  I  trust,  was  spared  for  usefulness. 
— But  I  have  here  anticipated ;  as  some  things,  about  to 
be  stated,  occurred  before  these  events." 

In  the  last-mentioned  incident,  my  dear  father  records 

*  In  fact  Mr.  H.  took  no  rent  of  me,  but  a  hamper  of  pears, 
aimiially,  from  a  fine  tree  in  the  garden,  for  which  he  regularly 
-sent  me  a  receipt, 

R 


130         AT  WESTON  UNDERWOOD,  &C.     [ChAP.  V. 

what  deeply  and  lastingly  affected  his  own  mind,  and  what 
he  has  often,  in  relating  it.  made  afi'ecting  to  the  minds 
of  others — parti(Milarly  of  him  who  now  remarks  upon  it. 
Neither  wa.s  it  forgotten  amid  the  solemnities  of  his  dying 
bed.  May  the  prayei's  offered  up  under  the  pressure  of 
the  aflliction,  and  often,  no  doubt,  repeated  afterwards 
through  succeeding  years,  be  much  more  abundantly  an- 
swered than  they  have  ever  yet  been  ! 

He  adds,  "  In  this  situation  I  wrote  and  published  the 
'  Foroe  of  Truth  ;'  which  was  revised  by  Mr.  Cowper, 
and,  as  to  style  and  externals,  but  not  otherwise,  consi- 
derably improved  by  his  advice." 

On  this  publication,  which  has  already  been  repeatedly 
referred  to,  I  shall  here  make  no  further  remark,  than 
that  the  first  edition  is  dated  February  26,  1779  ;  defer- 
ring, with  respect  to  it,  as  I  shall  do  with  respect  to  my 
father's  other  works,  whatever  observations  I  may  have 
to  oiFer,  to  the  close  of  these  memoirs. 


1777 — 1780.]         LETTERS.  131 


CHAPTER  VL 


LETTERS  BELONGING  TO  THE  PERIOD  OP  THE 
PRECEDING  CHAPTER. 

Here  again  it  may  be  proper  to  suspend  a  little  the 
progress  of  the  nari-ation^  for  the  purpose  of  introducing 
to  the  reader's  notice  extracts  of  several  letters,  bearing 
upon  the  events,  or  pertaining  to  the  times,  which  we 
have  been  reviewing. — The  following  relate  to  the  deaths 
which  have  been  mentioned,  and  some  others  with  which, 
about  this  period,  my  father's  family  was  visited. 

To  my  mother's  sister,  dated  October  19,   1779:   ^^I 
have  to  inform  you  that  it  has  pleased  the  Lord,  who 
gave,  also  to  take  away  from  us,  our  youngest  boy,  your 
husband's  godson  ;  and  thereby  to  discharge  both  him  and 
us  from  our  trust.     After  a  lingering  and  w^asting  disor- 
der, in  which  the  poor  thing  appeared  to  suffer  very 
much,  he  was  released  from  this  world  of  sin  and  sorrow, 
and,  I  doubt  not,  joined  the  blessed  assembly  above,  to 
unite  in  their  song  of  praise  to  Him  that  sitteth  on  the 
throne,  and  to  the  Lamb  that  was  slain,  and  hath  re- 
deemed them  to  God  with  his  blood.     He  died  on  the 
morning  of    September  25th.      Nature   will  feel   and 
heave  the  anxious  sigh,  but  faith  looks  within  the  veil, 
beholds  the  happy  deliverance,  approves,  and  rejoices : 
and  I  trust  we  both  are  enabled  to  say  from  our  hearts, 
The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away :  blessed 
he  the  name  of  the  Lord, — So  long  as  the  poor  infant 


132  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

was  amongst  the  number  of  suH'crers,  it  was  a  sharp  trial 
to  lis  both :  bnt  w  hen  he  was  released,  I  believe,  in  our 
better  judgment,  we  both  rejoiced. — But  I  am  speak- 
ing all  these  things  to  one  who  knows  not  experimen- 
tally a  parent's  heart  ;  and,  if  I  can  judge  by  myself, 
and  my  way  of  thinking  before  I  was  a  parent,  I  can 
fancy  you   saying,    '  There   is  no  such  great  loss,  nor 
such   a   mighty   resignation,    in    being   willing  to  part 
with  a  little  infant,  that  seems  well  out  of   the  way.' 
Thus  I  used  to  think  :  but  it  comes  nearer  a  parent's 
heart  than  you  can  imagine  :  and  it  would  be  no  easy 
matter  to  me  to  resign   patiently  to  this  loss,  were  it 
not  that  I    assuredly  believe  that,  as  the  Lord  knows 
best  what  is  good  for  me,  so  he  is  engaged  by  promise 
to  make  all  work  together  for  my  good  ;   and  were  I 
not  also  assured  (which   too   often  one  cannot  be  con- 
cerning deceased   persons^, )  that    he    is    now  a  blessed 
spirit  in  heaven  ;  from  whence,  if  they  in  heaven  have 
knowledge  of  the  concerns  of  those  they  leave  behind, 
he  looks  down,  with  a  mixture  of  pity  and  astonish- 
ment, to  see  us    so   ignorantly,   I  had  almost  said  en- 
viously, wishing  him  a  sharer  of  our  vain  enjoyments, 
embittered  with  numberless  sorrows,  and  defiled  by  con- 
tinual sins. — Death  has  been  very  busy  indeed  of  late 
in  my  family.     Within  about  six  years  I  have  lost  my 
father  and   mother,    two   own  sisters,  two  brothei^-in- 
law,  an  own  aunt,    a  nephew,  and  a  son.     These  are 
remembrances  to  me  to  take  heed,  be  ready,  watch  and 
pray,  for  I  know  not  when  the  time  is.     As  such  losses 
loosen  our  hearts  gradually  from  the  world,  so  they  also 
make  us  feel  ourselves  dying  creatures.     Hearing  of  one, 
and  then  another,  and  then  another  taken  off  by  such  un- 
expected strokes,  1  seem  to  wonder  at  myself,  that  I  am 
yet  spared ;  and  to  fancy  1  see  death  brandishing  his 


1777—1780.]  LETTERS.  133 

lance    over   my  head^    ready  to  strike  the  fatal  blow. 
I  feel  to  stand  on  the  brink  of  a  precipice^  ready  by  the 
slightest  touch  to  be  thrown  down  into  eternity.     I  seem 
to  hear  a  voice  behind  me  saying.  Prepare  to  meet  thy 
God. — I  bless  the  Lord,  this  fills  me  with  no  uneasy,  anx- 
ious thoughts.     Through  grace,  I  trust  that,  having  as  a 
poor  sinner  fled  for  refuge  to  the  hope  set  before  us  in  a 
crucified  Saviour,  through  the  sprinkling  of  his  most 
precious  blood,  my  soul  is  cleansed  from  the  guilt  of  all 
its  sins ;  and  that  I  have  the  experience  of  what  is  meant 
by  the  sanctification  of  the  spirit  unto  ohedienee;  andean 
join  with  Peter,  1st  Epist.  i.  2 — 4,  (to  which  I  refer  you,) 
and  therefore  can  say,  /  know  that,  ivhen  this  earthly 
house  of  my  tabernacle  shall  be  dissolved,  I  have  a  build- 
ing of  God,  a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in 
the  heavens.     And,  as  to  those  that  belong  to  me,  though 
they  are  my  closest  tie  to  life,  I  can  nevertheless  leave 
them  with  satisfaction  in  the  hands  of  that  God,  who  hath 
fed  me  all  my  life  long,  and  who  hath  said,  Leave  thy  fa- 
therless children  with  me,  and  I ivill preserve  them  alive; 
and  let  thy  widows  trust  in  me. — However  you  will  ob- 
serve that  I  am  at  present  in  a  very  tolerable  state  of 
health,    and    no  more  like   dying,  than    at   any  other 
time  in  my  whole  life  ;  and,  though  we  may  not  argue 
from  such  reasons,  yet  I  sometimes  fancy,  that  the  Lord  has 
somewhat  more  for  me  to  do,  before  he  takes  me  to  that  rest 
reserved  for  the  people  of  God. — However,  this  habitual 
frame  of  mind  which  my  own  frequent  sickness,  and  so  many 
instances  of  mortality  have  brought  me  into,  doth  very  much 
mortify  me  to  this  world;  and  I  cannot  but  wonder  to  think 
of  my  former  castle-building  frame  of  mind,  when,  with 
eager  hopes  and  sanguine  expectations,  I  was  forming 
schemes  of  satisfying  and  durable  happiness  in  such  a  vain 
uncertain  world.     My  dreams  and  visions  are  now  van- 


1 34  I^ KTT  E R  S .  [C  H  A P .  VI . 

islicd  like  a  morning  (loud.  I  find  now  that  neither 
riches,  nor  prefernient.  nor  reputation,  nor  ])leasure.  nor 
anv  worhlly  good,  can  afford  that  happiness  1  was  seeking. 
I  bless  the  Lord.  I  did  not  discover  the  cheat,  nor  lose 
the  shadow,  before  I  fonnd  the  substince.  I  did  not  dis- 
cover all  else  to  be  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit,  until  I 
found  out  that  to  fear  God  and  keep  his  eommandments 
is  the  whole  of  man.  Oh  how  many  thousands,  that,  like 
him  in  the  gospel  who  never  lifted  up  his  eyes  till  in  hell, 
never  find  their  sad  mistake  till  it  is  to  late  !  When  I  look 
around  upon  a  busy  bustling  world,  eagerly  pursuing  van- 
ity and  courting  disappoiritment,  neglecting  nothing  so 
much  as  the  one  thing  needful :  and  who,  in  order  to  have 
their  portion  in  this  life,  disregard  the  world  to  come, 
and  only  treasure  up  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath  ;  it 
makes  me  think  of  a  farmer,  who  should,  with  vast  labour, 
cultivate  his  lands,  and  gather  in  his  crop,  and  thresh  it 
out,  and  separate  the  corn  from  the  chaff,  and  then  sweep 
the  corn  out  upon  the  dunghill,  and  carefully  lay  by  the 
chaff!  Such  a  person  would  be  supposed  mad  :  but  how 
faint  a  shadow  would  this  be  of  his  madness,  who  labours 
for  the  meat  that  perisheth,  but  neglects  that  which  en- 
dure th  unto  everlasting  life ! — This  is  all  unpremeditated : 
I  must  leave  you  to  apply  it.  It  is  a  madness  the  whole 
race  of  men  labours  under,  unless  and  until  divine  grace 
works  the  cure  :  until  it  may  be  said  of  us,  as  of  the  re- 
turning prodigal,  When  he  came  to  hiinself  he  said^&c. 
— You  will  excuse,  I  hope,  the  mention  of  such  important 
subjects.  My  only  apology  is,  that  we  are  creatures 
formed  for  eternity  :  and  my  wish  and  prayer  are,  that, 
whether  we  meet  on  earth  or  not,  we  may  spend  eternity 
together  in  heaven.  If  we  are  all  in  the  right  way,  we 
do  well  to  encourage  and  quicken  one  another;  and,  if 
otherwise,  the  sooner  we  set  out  the  better.'' 


1777—1780.]  LETTERS.  135 

The  following  passages  relate  to  a  death  which  still 
more  deeply  affected  him. 

To  his  elder  sister.  May  30,  1780.  "  The  occasion  of 
my  writing  is  to  inform  you,  that  the  Lord  has  been 
pleased  to  take  my  poor  dear  daughter  from  me  by  a  sud- 
den stroke.  She  was  in  perfect  health,  and  a  breathless 
corpse,  within  less  than  eighteen  hours ...  A  sweeter 
child  and  dearer  to  her  parents'  hearts  could  scarcely  be : 
and,  whilst  I  looked  upon  her  promising  advances  in 
knowledge,  and  apparently  Christian  converse,  tempers, 
and  conduct,  (which  were  almost  incredible,)  I  promised 
myself  great  comfort  in  her;  and  did  not  understand,  that 
the  Lord,  by  bringing  her  forward  so  very  much  beyond 
her  years,  was  only  preparing  her  for  himself,  and  ripen- 
ing her  for  glory. — But  I  shall  say  no  more  of  her.  If 
ever  we  meet,  and  you  desire  it,  I  can  give  you  an  ac- 
count of  such  things  concerning  her,  as  will  surprise  you. 
This  is  my  great  comfort.'' 

It  will  no  doubt  surprise  the  reader  to  be  informed, 
that  this  is  written  concerning  a  child  only  four  years  and 
a  half  old.  But  it  is  implied  that  the  case  was  extraor 
dinary  :  my  father  always  considered  it  as  the  most  re- 
markable that  had  fallen  under  his  own  observation  ;  and 
he  has  left  a  short  memorial  of  it,  which  will  be  annexed 
to  the  present  publication.  But  I  here  subjoin  an  extract 
of  another  letter,  to  which  the  preceding  gave  occasion. 

To  same,  July  6,  1780.     "  Concerning  my  poor  dear 

babe truly  I  grieved,  and  felt  more  than  ever  1 

felt  before  of  that  grief,  which  springs  from  being  be- 
reaved of  one  much  beloved  :  and  my  heart  bleeds,  if  I 
may  thus  speak,  at  every  remembrance  of  her.  But  I 
do  not  grieve  as  one  without  hope  :  hope  of  meeting  her 
in  glory,  and  spending  a  joyful  eternity  together. — I  do 
not  grieve  so  as  to  indulge  ^vitiov  complaining,  or  think 


361  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

(with  Jonah,)  I  do  locll  to  be  an^ry^  because  my  darling 
gourd  is  withered.  God  liath  done  well,  and  wisely,  and 
graciously  ;  and,  whilst  my  heart  is  pained,  my  judgment 
is  satisfied.  1  do  not  now  wish  it  otherwise.  She  might 
have  lived,  in  some  way  or  other,  to  have  filled  my  soul 
with  unmixed  bitterness,  and  to  have  brought  down  my 
grey  hairs  (if  I  live  to  grey  hairs,)  loith  sorroiv  to  the 
grave. — I  do  not  grieve  so  as  not  to  rejoice  :  rejoice  to 
recollect  what  I  cannot  now  particularize  of  her  amazing 
understanding  and  answers,  teachableness  and  conscien- 
tiousness ;  which  makes  me  not  doubt  that  she  was,  in  a 
measure,  like  John  the  Baptist,  taught  by  the  Holy  Ghost 
from  her  mother's  womb  :  for  none  could  speak  and  act 
as  she  did  but  by  the  Holy  Ghost : — rejoice,  to  think  that 
I  have  two  children  adopted  into  God's  femily,  taken  home 
to  his  house,  and  filled  with  his  love.  It  is  a  high  honour, 
and  I  ought  to  rejoice  in  it.  Dearly  as  I  love  my  only 
remaining  babe,  and  much  as  I  long  to  keep  him,  I  had 
rather  see  him  die,  as  my  poor  dear  girl  did,  than  live 
rich  and  honoured,  without  he  live  the  life  of  a  true 
Christian. — She  has  got  free  from  all  that  I  long  to  be 
delivered  from  ;  and  has  attained  all  I  am  longing  for. 
I  shall  go  to  her^  but  she  shall  not  return  to  me. — You 
mention  the  supposed  loss  of  your  sweet  babes.  Whilst 
I  pray  God  to  preserve  them  to  you,  and  you  to  them, 
I  cannot  but  advise  you  to  rejoice  in  them  with  trembling, 
and  to  be  often  preparing,  in  thinking  and  praying  con- 
cerning it,  for  a  separation  :  for  we  are  tenants  at  will 
concerning  all  our  comforts. — When  you  call  them  sweet 
innocent  creatures,  I  hope  you  only  mean  com  pari  tively, 
and  to  our  ap])rehcnsions  ;  not  forgetting  the  words  of 
our  Catechism,  that  we  are  *  born  of  sin,  and  the  children 
of  wrath.'  The  youngest  needs  the  blood  of  Christ  to 
wash  away  the  guilt,  and  the  Spirit  of  Christ  to  cleanse 


1777 — 1780  LETTERS.  137 

away  the  pollution  of  sin  :  and  they  should  be  taught,  as 
soon  as  they  know  any  thing,  to  consider  themselves  as 
sinners,  and  to  pray  for  the  pardon  of  sin,  and  a  new 
heart  and  nature,  in  and  through  Jesus  Christ.  This 
my  poor  babe  did  by  herself  alone,  as  duly  as  the  morn- 
ing and  evening  came. — But  enough,  and  probably  too 
much  of  this,  which  I  hope  you  will  not  take  ill .  .  .  .'' 

One  of  the  '^  brothers-in-law,''  of  whose  death  men- 
tion has  been  made  in  the  above  extracts,  was  the  hus- 
band of  my  father's  eldest  sister,  Mrs.  Webster,  to 
whom  so  many  of  his  letters  are  addressed.  She  had  been 
married  only  five  years,  and  was  now  left  (September, 
1779,)  with  two  children,  and  the  near  prospect  of  the 
birth  of  a  third  ;  besides  many  other  difiiculties  to  strug- 
gle with.  These  circumstances,  of  so  beloved  a  relative, 
naturally  called  forth  all  the  tender  sympathies  of  my 
father's  heart  ;  and  he  wrote  to  her  several  letters  full 
of  affectionate  condolence,  and  wise  and  Christian  coun- 
sel. Some  of  them  I  should  with  pleasure  insert,  were 
I  not  restrained  by  the  fear  of  extending  my  extracts  be- 
yond due  bounds. 

We  have  seen  the  spirit  with  which  my  father,  at  this 
period,  bore  severe  trials  of  one  class  ;  I  shall  next  fur- 
nish specimens  of  the  temper  which  he  manifested  under 
those  of  another  description. 

Intimations  have  already  appeared,  that  the  change, 
which  had  taken  place  in  his  religious  views,  was  not  a- 
greeable  to  others  of  his  family  besides  his  deceased  fa- 
ther. In  this  respect  he,  for  a  considerable  time,  suffer- 
ed an  affliction,  in  which,  as  in  almost  all  others,  those 
who  are  exercised  with  it,  may  derive  comfort  from  re- 
flecting, that  the  divine  Redeemer  learned  by  experi- 
ence to  sympathize  with  his  followers.     Of  him  it  is  writ- 

S 


1^*  LRTTR^g.  [Chaf.  VI. 

ten,  ^^  Neither  did  his  hrdhren  believe  in  him."  Hap- 
Jiilt  there  is  the  less  reason,  in  the  present  instance,  for 
beitie;  restrained  by  delicacy  from  adverting  to  this  sub- 
ject, because  all  the  parties  referred  to  were  ultimately 
brouc^ht  to  an  acquiescence  in  their  brother's  sentiments; 
And  those,  iii  particular,  with  whom  we  are  here  most 
concerned,  eventually  bore  that  regard  for  his  character, 
and  that  lovie  to  his  principles,  that  I  am  persuaded 
they  would  have  wished  nothing  to  be  withheld  which 
Iniglit  advantageously  illustrate  the  one,  or  tend  to  pro- 
Inote  the  other  ;  even  though  it  should  cast  a  little  pas- 
sing blame  upon  themselves. 

A  letter  of  Octbber  13,  1778,  to  his  elder  sister,  which 
makes  mention  of  ^'  a  very  bad  and  dangerous  illness 
after  his  return  from  London,''  and  also  of  "  finding  so 
much  writihg  very  prejudicial  to  his  health,"  contains 
further  intimations  of  the  kind  alluded  to ;  and  at  the 
Same  time  well  illustrates  the  very  prudent  and  proper 
course  which  he  persucd,  and  which  indeed  the  progress 
o{  his  own  mind  nattirally  suggested  to  him,  in  treating 
with  his  correspondent  upon  the  subjects  nearest  his 
heart. 

"  You  seemed  to  think,  when  you  were  with  us,  that 
I  Wnnted  to  impose  a  set  of  notions  upon  you  in  religion : 
T)ut  that  is  Wot  my  aim.  If  you  ask  me  what  my  belief  is, 
I  am  willing  to  declare  it :  but  otherwise  I  have  no  am- 
bition to  make  proselytes  to  an  opinion.  My  design  is  to 
make  converts  to  the  substantial  duties  of  a  religious  and 
godly  life :  to  persuade  (leople  that  eternity  is  of  most 
consequence  :  that  they  ought  not  to  be  so  careful  and 
troubled  about  many  things,  as  to  neglect  the  one  thing 
heedful :  that  our  religion  is  all  contained  in  the  Bible  : 
that  We  ought  to  read  that  book  not  only  to  learn  what  to 
do,  but  what  to  believe  :  that  God  is  the  giver  of  wisdom : 


1777—1780.]  LETTERS.  |3!9 

the  Holy  Spirit  the  teacher  of  the  truth  :  that,  before  we 
understand  the  scripture  aright,  we  must  have  our  minds 
opened  and  prepared  by  the  Spirit  of  God— -for  the  natu- 
ral man  receiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 
for  they  are  foolishness  unto  him,  neither  can  he  knoy^ 
them,  because  they  are  spiritually  disce?'ned  .-—in  short, 
that  we  are  to  trust  in  the  Lord  with  all  oixf  heart,  and 
not  to  lean  to  our  own  understanding  :  that  therefore 
we  ought  to  be  constant  in  prayer  to  God,  that  he  would 
teach  us  the  true  way  of  salvation — for  his  secret  is  with 
them  that  fear  him,  and  he  will  shew  them  his  covcfiant  / 
— that  he  would  preserve  us  from  mistake,  lead  us  to 
know  his  truth,  free  us  from  prejudice  and  pride,  and 

give  us  that  true  wisdom  which  is  from  above. Three 

years  and  a  half  I  have  day  by  day,  and  many  times  a 
day,  done  this.  Since  I  did  so,  I  have  found  myself 
much  changed  in  my  views  and  notions  of  religion : 
and,  as  I  am  comfortably  assured  that  the  Lord 
hath  heard  and  answered  my  prayers;  and  as  I  not 
only  feel  the  effect  of  it  in  myself,  but  see  the  ef- 
fect of  the  alteration  of  my  preaching,  in  the  very 
wonderful  change  of  many  profligate  sinners  to  a  so- 
ber, righteous,  and  godly  life ;  I  therefore,  wherein 
I  suppose  I  was  before  wrong  myself,  hint  it  to  you 
and  others  dear  to  me.  If  you  think  differently  from 
to  me,  you  cannot  deny  that  the  means  I  prescribe  are 
right,  safe,  scriptural,  and  a  duty.  There  I  leave  it. 
I  profess  to  believe  it  the  Lord's  work :  when  I  have 
used  the  means,  I  leave  it  to  him  :  and  my  daily,  and 
more  than  daily  prayer  for  you,  all  and  every  one,  is,  that 
the  Lord  would  set  you  right  where  wrong ;  teach  you 
where  ignorant ;  guide  you  to  the  knowledge  of  his  sav- 
ing truth  ;  and  fulfil  all  his  gracious  promises,  spiritual 
,and  temporal,  to  your  souls  and  bodies. — -I  should  be 


140  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VL 

glad  if  you  would  say  a  few  words  on  this  subject  :  if  not, 
I  must  be  satisfied  to  leave  it  where  it  is.  We  any  of  us 
luay  be  wrong,  and  therefore  we  ought  not  to  be  too 
sure  we  are  right ;  for  confidence  is  no  mark  of  wisdom. 
It  is  worth  our  inquiry  and  our  prayer,  and  you  will  not 
find  me  hasty  to  dictate." 

In  a  subsequent  letter,  December  15,  1779,  while  he 
anticipates  her  coming  to  the  same  views  with  him,  he 
wisely  says,  "  I  have  no  expectation  that  this  will  be 
brought  about  in  the  way  of  argumentation  and  dispute, 
which  generally  do  too  much  ruffle  the  passions,  to  leave 
the  mind  open  to  an  impartial  reception  of  the  truth.'' 
He  rather  expects  ^^  that,  under  the  guidance  and  secret 
teaching  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  gradually  opening  her  un- 
derstanding to  understand  the  scriptures,  and  disclosing 
more  and  more  what  passes  in  her  own  heart,  and  what 
is  revealed  in  the  Bible,  she  will  seem  to  discover  it  of 
herself.'' 

And  in  a  third,  dated  a  month  afterwards,  he  says, 
^^Your  letter,  though  written  not  without  suspicions 
that  I  should  disapprove  it,  is  the  most  comfortable  one 
I  have  ever  received  from  you  since  my  views  of  religion 
were  changed  ;  as  it  leaves  me  little  doubt  that  the  Lord 
is  leading  you,  in  the  same  gradual  manner  he  led  me, 
to  a  spiritual  and  experimental  acquaintance  with  the 
truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus !" 

Yet,  still  later  than  this,  he  mournfully  laments  the 
neglect  into  which  he  had  fallen  with  his  relations  on  ac- 
count of  his  religious  principles  ;  not  excepting  even 
those  sistei^  with  whom  he  had  long  maintained  such 
full  and  intimate  correspondence.  "  It  is  no  small  concern 
to  me,*'"  he  says,  "  that  you,  and  indeed  all  my  relations, 
should  have  entirely  forgotten  that  there  is  such  a  person 
as  I  am.     If  indeed  you  do  think  me  mistaken,  then  pray 


1777 1780.]        LETTERS.  141 

for  me  that  the  Lord  may  set  me  right,  and  recover  me ; 
and  now  and  then  let  me  hear  something  from  you,  if 
you  be  weary  of  mentioning  religion. — Indeed  I  do  not 
forget  you  :  not  a  day  passes  but  I  make  mention  of  you 
in  my  prayers,  nor  a  post- night  comes,  bat  it  occurs  to 
my  mind,  that  formerly  I  used  to  hear  from  you.  ...  I 
long  to  hear  of  your  welfare,  and  should  be  glad  to  con- 
tribute to  it ;  nor  do  I  yet  despair,  that  we  shall  one  day 
be  of  one  mind  where  we  most  differ  :  for  I  do  most  sin- 
cerely beseech  the  Lord  to  lead  me  right  wherever 
I  mistake,  and  to  lead  you  right  wherever  you  mis- 
take ;  and  I  beg  of  you  to  make  the  same  request. 
And  I  hope  he  regards  and  will  answer :  and  then,  where- 
ever  we  are  either  of  us  wrong,  we  shall  both  be  brought 
right  at  last,  and  meet  like-minded  in  heaven." 

And  yet  again :  "  When  I  receive  no  answer  for  a 
long  time,  I  cannot  but  be  discouraged,  and  led  to  sus- 
pect that  the  reason  why  my  friends  do  not  write  is,  that 
they  do  not  desire  my  letters ;  and  this  keeps  me  from 
writing  except  I  have  business.  Otherwise  I  will  assure 
you,  that  one  post-night  after  another  I  have  complained 
with  a  sorrowful  heart,  that  all  my  relations  were  weary 
©f  me." 

These  extracts,  and  several  things  which  have  preced- 
ed, may  perhaps  present  my  father  to  some  readers  in  a 
new  point  of  view.  A  certain  roughness  of  exterior  im- 
pressed many  persons  with  the  idea  that  he  was  harsh 
and  severe.  It  was  reserved  to  those  who  knew  him 
more  intimately,  to  be  fully  aware  how  kind  and  feeling 
a  heart  he  carried  within  ;  a  heart  which  Christian  prin- 
ciples, while  they  fortified  the  natural  firmness  of  his 
character,  made  continually  more  and  more  tender  and 
aifectionate,  and  that,  as  his  latter  days  advanced,  to  a 
degree  that  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  express. 


142  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

But,  besides  this  effect  of  these  extracts,  I  willingly 
promise  myself  that  they  may  prove,  in  various  ways, 
useful  to  many  readers.  Some  may  be  taught  by  them 
what  so  expect,  and  be  admonished  to  "count  their  cost," 
in  professing  themselves  Christ's  disciples.  There  is  an 
opposition  in  the  human  heart  to  the  principles  of  his 
religion,  really  received  and  acted  upon,  which  no  bonds 
of  relative  affection  can  overcome  :  and  hence  he  assures 
us,  that,  "  if  we  love  father  or  mother  more  than  him,  we 
cannot  be  his  disciples." — To  others,  they  may  suggest 
important  hints  on  the  proper  manner  of  conducting 
themselves  under  trials  of  this  kind.  Let  them  neither 
be  "  ashamed  of  Christ's  words,"  nor  too  impetuously 
obtrude  them  upon  unwilling  hearers.  The  cfiution  will 
be  doubly  needful,  towards  persons  filling  the  superior 
relations  in  life. — And  to  all  who  are  endeavouring  to  pur- 
sue a  right  course  themselves,  and  longing  after  beloved 
relatives,  "in  the  bowels  of  Jesus  Christ,"  these  passages, 
compared  with  the  result,  which  has  been  already  stated, 
may  afford  great  encouragement.  Let  them  always  re- 
member the  reply  of  the  Christian  bishop,  to  the  weep- 
ing mother  of  St.  Augustine,  "  The  child  of  so  many 
prayers  can  never  be  lost !" 

But  the  most  pleasing  proof  of  the  happiness  as  well 
as  benevolence,  which  religion  diffused  over  my  fathers 
mind  at  this  period,  is  furnished  by  a  letter  to  his  younger 
sister,  Mrs.  Ford,  dated  July  27,  1779. 

"  Hitherto,"  he  says,  "  I  have  kept  silence,  yea  even 
from  good  tvords :  but  it  was  pain  and  grief  to  me,  .  .  . 
I  would,  however,  once  more  remind  you,  that  you  have 
a  brother — who  was  no  hypocrite  when  he  assured  you 
that  he  loved  you,  at  least  as  well  as  any  relation  that  he 
had  in  the  v/orld,  his  wife  and  children  excepted  ;  that 
your  interest  and  welfare  were  always  ne^r  tp  feis  heart; 


1777 — 1780.]  LETTERS.  143 

that  he  would  have  been  glad,  if  it  had  pleased  God,  to 
have  had  it  in  his  power  to  evidence  this  to  you  by  some 
important  service  :  that  his  love  is  not  waxed  cold,  nor 
in  the  least  diminished,  but  the  contrary  ;  that  he  loves 
you  as  well,  and  wishes  you  better  than  ever ;  and  that, 
seeing  he   can  do  nothing  else,  he  never  forgets,  in  his 
daily  prayers,  to  commend  you  and  yours,  soul  and  body, 
to  the  love,  care,  and  blessing  of  his  God  and  Saviour. — 
Dear  sister,  I  can  truly  say  with  Paul,  that  /  have  con- 
tinual sorrow  and  heaviness  in  my  heart,  for  my  bre- 
thren according  to  the  flesh :  but  on  account  of  none  so 
much  as  you.     All   the  rest,  though  not  seeing  with  my 
eyes,  are  friendly  and  civil,  and  not  willing  quite  to  give 
me  up  :  but  you  have  totally  turned  your  back  of  me  : — 
the  favourite  sister,  whose  heart  seemed  as  closely  knit 
to  mine  by  the  dearest  and  most  confidential  friendship, 
as  the  nearest  relative  ties !     The  very  thought  brings 
tears  into  my  eyes,  and  I  weep  while   I  write  to  you. 
And  what  have  I  done  to  offend  you? — It  has  pleased  the 
Lord,  though  my  study  of  his  word,  with  prayer  for  that 
teaching  which  he  hath  promised,  to  lead  me  to  a  differ- 
ent view  of  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  than  I  had  em- 
braced :  and  not  only  so,  but  to  lead  me  from  seeking  the 
favour  of  the  world,  and  my  own  glory,  to  seek  God's 
favour,  aim  at  his  glory,  and  derive  happiness  from  him. 
A  happiness  I  have  therein  tasted,  to  which  I  was  before 
a  stranger — that  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  under- 
standing^  and  which  as  much  excels,  even  in  this  world, 
any  thing  I  had  before  experienced,  as  the  cheering  con- 
stant light  of  the  noon-day  sun  exceeds  the  short-lived 
glare  of  a  flash  of  lightning,  which  leaves  the  night  more 
dark  and  gloomy  than  before.     Having  found  that  good 
I  had  long  been  seeking  in  vain,  I  was  desirous  to  tell  all 
I  loved,  in  proportion  as  I  loved  them,  what  the  Lord 


10  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

liad  (lone  for  me,  and  how  he  liad  had  mercy  on  me  ;  that 
they  find,  vviiat  I  knew  they  too  were  seeking,  true  hap- 
piness. Come,  taste  and  see  how  gracious  the  Lord  is, 
and  how  blessed  they  are  that  put  their  trust  in  him,  was 
the  language  of  my  heart.  But,  for  want  of  experience 
and  prudence,  forgetting  my  own  principle,  that  none 
can  come  to  Jesus  except  he  be  taught  of  God,  (John  vi. 
44 — 46,)  I  was  much  too  earnest,  and  in  a  hurry:  said 
too  much,  and  went  too  far  :  and  thus,  out  of  my  abun- 
dant love,  surfeited  you.  Forgive  me  this  wrong!  It 
was  well  meant,  but  ill-judged,  and  worse  received.  0  my 
dear  sister,  I  wish  you  as  happy  as  I  am  myself,  and  I  need 
wish  you  no  happier  in  this  world.  To  call  God  my  father ; 
to  confide  in  his  love ;  to  realise  his  powerful  presence  ; 
to  see  by  faith  his  wisdom  choosing,  his  love  providing  for 
me,  his  arm  protecting  me  ;  to  find  him  (my  sins  notwith- 
standing,) reconciled  to  me,  and  engaged  to  bless  me  ; 
to  view  him  seated  on  a  throne  of  grace,  bowing  his  ear 
to  my  poor  prayers,  granting  my  requests,  supplying  my 
wants,  supporting  me  under  every  trial,  sweetening  and 
sanctifying  every  trouble,  manifesting  his  love  to  me,  and 
comforting  me  by  his  Holy  Spirit ;  to  look  forward  to 
heaven  as  my  home  ;  and  to  be  able  to  say  at  night,  when 
I  go  to  rest.  If  I  die  before  morning,  I  shall  be  with  my 
gracious  Lord,  to  enjoy  his  love  for  ever:  This  is  my 
happiness  :  and  what  is  there  in  the  world  worth  compar- 
ing with  it  ? 

'  Let  worldly  minds  die  world  pursue, 

It  has  no  charms  for  me  ; 
Once  I  admir'd  its  trifles  too, 

But  grace  has  set  me  free.' 

— Peace  with  God,  peace  of  conscience,  peace  in  my 
family,  peace  with  all  around  me — these  are  the  blessings 


1777 — 1780.]  LETTERS.  145 

o^ peace  which  God  gives  his  people.  May  God  give 
them  to  you! — I  say  no  more  upon  doctrines  :  only  search 
the  scriptures,  and  pray  to  be  taught  of  God. — If  I  have 
said  too  much  this  time  on  the  subject,  I  will  say  less 
next  letter.  Only  acknowledge  me  as  a  brother,  and  do 
not  quite  disown  me,  as  an  incorrigible  fanatic,  because  I 
believe  the  scriptures,  and  exhort  you  to  read  them,  and 
pray  to  understand  them. . . 

^'  I  have  written  a  book,  now  in  the  press,  which  will 
be  published  in  three  weeks  time,  given  an  account  of 
the  grounds  and  reasons  of  the  change  you  so  much  won- 
der at ;  chiefly  for  the  use  of  my  former  friends.  As 
you  used  not  to  consider  me  as  a  fool,  do  not  condemn 
my  book  as  foolish,  without  reading  it,  and  that  atten- 
tively :  and,  where  we  diifer,  do  make  it  a  part  of  your 
prayers,  that  whichever  of  us  is  mistaken  may  be  directed 
to  the  truth. '^ 

Writing  to  Mr.   and  Mrs.  Ford  jointly,   September 
28th,  after  allowing  the  truth  of  their  position,  "  that  it 
is  possible  for  a  person,   engaged  in  the  concerns  of  the 
world,  so  to  spend  his  time  in  his  business,  as  to  be  doing 
his  duty  to  God  and  man,''  he  makes  the  following  re- 
marks :   "  However,  by  the  way,  observe,  that  very  few 
thus  manage  their  worldly  business.     Of  this  you  may 
judge.     He,  who  thus  does  his  worldly  business,  has  it 
sanctified  by  the  word  of  God  and  prayer.     He  goes 
about  it  because  it  is  the   will  of  God  he  should  do  so. 
He  orders  it  all  in  conformity  to  his  revealed  will,  as  far 
as  he  knows  that  will ;  comparing  his  conduct  continually 
with  the  word  of  God.     He  depends  upon  the  Lord  for 
a  blessing  in  his  undertakings,  and  seeks  it  in  prayer. 
What  the  Lord  gives,  he  recieves  v>^ith  thankfulness  ;  as 
a  gift  undeserved  ;  as  a  talent  committed  to  his  steward- 
ship ;  and  aims  to  use  it  to  his  glory  :  jiot  with  the  miser, 

T 


146  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

as  a  talent  wrapped  in  a  napkin,  or  buried  in  the  earth  : 
not  as  provision  made  for  the  flesh,  to  fulfil  the  lusts 
thereof,  with  the  prodigal  :  but  in  temperance,  modera- 
tion, and  a  liberal,  compassionate  beneficence.  When 
the  Lord  crosses  him,  he  submits,  and  says,  It  is  the 
Lord  J  let  him  do  ivhat  seenieth  him  good :  and,  when 
things  look  dark,  he  does  not  murmur  or  distrust,  but 
says,  the  Lord  will  provide.'' 

Another  series  of  letters  may  also  here  be  adverted  to, 
extending  from  the  year  1778  to  1785,  and  addressed  to 
the  husband  of  my  mother's  sister.  They  are  almost  en- 
tirely religious,  but  being  chiefly  occupied  in  urging 
first  principles,  they  will  not  furnish  more  than  a  few 
extracts  in  this  place,  illustrative  of  the  writer's  zeal, 
faithfulness,  and  spiritual  wisdom. 

"  August  11,  1778.  Religion  was  so  much  the  sub- 
ject of  conversation  with  us  when  you  were  in  Bucks, 
that  I  hope  it  will  not  be  a  disagreeable  subject  of  cor- 
respondence. I  am  so  deeply  sensible  of  the  importance 
of  religion,  that  is,  of  the  concerns  of  eternity,  the  in- 
terests of  our  immortal  souls,  and  the  way  and  manner 
wherein  we  may  be  accepted  by  a  just,  holy,  almighty, 
and  eternal  God,  that  I  am  naturally  led  to  think  every 
one  as  much  impressed  with  the  sense  of  these  things  as 
I  am  ;  though  I  have  abundant  evidence  that  there  are 
but  very  few,  who  pay  much  regard  to  them  :  and,  of 
those  who  do  pay  some  regard,  most  are  so  much  blinded 
and  prejudiced  by  the  world,  by  Satan,  and  by  sin,  that 
their  religion  is  one  of  their  own  making,  and  they  know 
little  of  that  religion  which  the  word  of  (iod  proposes  to 
us.  You  may  remember  that,  though  I  told  you  my 
views  of  religion  over  and  over,  yet  I  laid  little  stress 
upon  that.  I  told  you  withal  that  I  did  not  want  you  to 
believe  them  because  I  taught  them,  but  because  tlie  Lord 


1777 — 1780.]  LETTERS.  147 

taught  them.  The  Bible  being  the  word  of  God,  his 
message  to  us,  able  to  make  us  wise  unto  salvation^  the 
great  point  I  laboured  to  impress  upon  your  mind  was, 
the  absolute  necessity  of  taking  our  religion  from  that 
book  alone,  and  the  obligation  we  are  under  to  search  the 
scriptures  daily  to  know  what  indeed  they  do  contain ; 
to  receive  what  they  contain  as  certain  truth,  however 
man,  even  learned  men,  and  preachers,  may  contradict 
them,  and  however  contrary  they  may  be  to  our  former 
notions  and  conceptions,  and  how  mysterious  soever  some 
things  in  them  may  appear. — ^The  next  thing  I  laboured 
to  impress  was,  the  necessity  of  prayer  in  general  for 
whatever  we  want ;  but  especially,  when  we  read  the 
word  of  God,  that  we  may  be  enabled  by  the  Holy  Spirit 
to  understand  it.'' 

"  January  15,  1779.  Whether  you  know  it  or  not, 
(I  hope  you  will  know  it, )  before  you  can  serve  God  with 
comfort  and  acceptance  you  need  these  two  things.  First, 
forgiveness  of  sins.  You  have  been  sinning  against  God 
in  thought,  word,  and  deed,  all  your  life ;  as  we  all  have. 
Your  sins  of  heart  and  life,  of  omission  and  commission, 
stand  against  you,  and,  till  they  be  accounted  for  and 
forgiven,  your  services  cannot  be  accepted.  Every  duty 
you  do  is  short  of  its  perfection,  and  as  such  adds  to  your 
sins  and  needs  forgiveness.  In  this  case  the  gospel  re- 
veals forgiveness,  through  the  blood  of  Christ, /r^e/y  given 
to  every  sinner  who  believes.  Believe,  and  thou  shalt 
he  saved.  Accept  this  freely,  as  it  is  offered,  and  seek, 
by  prayer,  for  faith  to  believe  this  record  which  God 
gives  of  his  Son  :  and  then,  your  sins  being  forgiven,  you 
will  no  longer  look  upon  God  as  an  austere  master,  or  se- 
vere judge,  but  as  a  loving  father,  and  will  with  accep- 
tance and  comfort  pay  your  services,  though  imperfect. 
For,  secondly,  you  need  moreover  a  willing  mind,  and 


148  i.ETTEKM.  [Chap.  VI. 

strength  to  resist  temptation.  Hitherto,  I  dare  say,  you 
have  constrained  your  inclination  in  what  you  have  done 
in  religion  :  but,  if  you  are  brought  to  faith,  living  faith 
in  Christ,  he  will  give  you  other  inclinations,  a  netv  heart, 
and  a  new  spirit,  a  new  nature.  Then  his  yoke  ivill  be 
easy  ;  his  commandments  not  grievous  ;  his  ivays^  tvays 
of  pleasantness,^^ 

''  Nov.  2,  1780.  May  I  conjecture  the  reason  of 
your  silence  ?  If  I  am  mistaken,  I  hope  you  will  not  be 
offended,  as  I  am  solicitous  about  you,  and  fearful  lest 
by  any  yncans  the  tempter  have  tempted  you^  and  my  la- 
bour should,  be  in  vairi :  which  to  loose  would  be  a  great 

grief  to  me,  to  you  an I  cannot  express  what ! — I? 

not  the  case  thus  ?  When  you  had  got  home,  and  enga- 
ged afresh  in  worldly  business,  and  got  again  among  for 
mer  companions,  were  you  not  carried  away  with  the 
stream  ?  Your  impressions  gradually  wearing  off,  and 
conscience  making  fainter  and  fainter  resistance,  hath 
not  your  goodness  proved  like  the  morning  dew^  that 
passeth  away  .^.  .  . .  Oh  how  glad  should  I  be  to  find  my- 
self mistaken  in  this  !  for  God  is  my  record  how  earnest- 
ly /  long  after  you  in  the  bowels  of  Jesus  Christ :  that 
I  do  bear  a  truly  brotherly  affection  towards  you,  long 
for  your  welfare,  and  not  wholly  forget  to  pray  for  you, 
and  still  hope  that  my  prayers  shall  be  answered.'' 

"January  11,  1781.  I  rejoice  exceedingly  at  what 
you  tell  me  concerning  yourself.  1  would  not  say  too 
much  in  the  way  of  encouragement. .  .  I  have  seen  hope- 
ful awakenings  wear  off :  therefore  be  jealous  of  yourself : 
be  not  high  minded,  hut  fear  :  press  forward,  forget- 
ting the  things  that  are  behind,  and  reaching  fw^th  to 
the  things  that  are  before.  But  I  will  venture  to  say, 
that  your  last  letter  has  made  my  heart  leap  for  joy,  and 


X777 — 1780.]  LETTERS.  149 

makes  me  confidently  hope  for  a  happy  issue^  an  effectual 
answer  to  the  many  prayers  I  have^  and  your  sister  has 

offered  for  you You  speak  of  the  reproach  of  the 

world  :  rejoice  in  it.  What,  are  you  unwilling  to  be  put 
upon  a  footing  with  the  apostles,  and  prophets,  yea  with 
your  master  himself?" 

I  flatter  myself  I  need  offer  no  apology  for  extracts 
presenting  so  lively  and  affecting  a  picture  of  the  writer's 
mind,  and  exhibiting  in  him  already  so  strong  a  resemb- 
lance of  what  he  himself  has  described,  as  St.  Paul's 
temper,  in  the  opening  of  his  treatise  on  '  Growth  in 
Grace.'  ^^  The  apostle  Paul,"  he  says,  ^^  was  evidently 
a.  man  of  strong  passions  and  peculiar  sensibility  ;  and, 
being  by  divine  grace  exceedingly  filled  with  love  to  the 
Lord  Jesus,  and  to  the  souls  of  men,  his  mind  was  affect- 
ed with  the  most  lively  emotions  of  joy  or  sorrow,  hope 
or  fear,  according  to  the  tidings  he  received  from  the  sev- 
eral churches  of  Christ.  At  one  time  he  complains  that 
he  has  no  rest  in  his  fiesh^  is  filled  ivith  heaviness j  and 
can  no  longei^  forbear  ;  and  that  he  writes  out  of  much 
affliction^  with  anguish  of  heart,  and  with  many  tears. 
At  another  he  declares  that  he  is  filled  with  comfort ,  and 
is  exceedingly  joy  fid  in  all  his  tribulation,  being  com- 
forted by  the  faith  of  his  beloved  children  :  for  now, 
says  he,  ^ive  live,  if  ye  stand  fast  in  the  LordP — He 
understands  the  opcstle,  indeed,  to  "  intimate,  that  these 
were  things  which  concerned  his  infirmities  :  and  doubt- 
less," he  says,  "  this  sanguine  disposition  requires  much 
correction  and  regulation  by  divine  grace  :  but,  when  it 
is  thus  tempered  and  counterbalanced  by  proportionable 
humility,  wisdom,  patience,  and  disinterestedness,  it  may 
be  considered  as  the  main  spring  of  a  minister's  activity. 
And,  as  these  united  qualifications  certainly  conduced 


150 


LETTERS. 


[Chap.  VI. 


very  much  to  the  apostle's  extraordinary  usefulness,  so 
they  render  his  epistles  peculiarly  interesting  to  us,  in  all 
our  inquiries  concerning  the  best  methods  of  promoting 
the  enlargement  and  prosperity  of  the  church,  and  the 
edification  of  all  the  true  disciples  of  the  Lord  Jesus." 


1780.]  WESTON  UNDERWOOD,  131 


CHAPTER.  VIL 

FROM  THE  FIRST  PROPOSAL  OF  THE  CURACY  OF  OLNEY  TO 
THE  CLOSE  OF  HIS  MINISTRY  THERE. 

"  In  1780*  Mr.  Newton  removed  to  London.  When 
he  had  determined  on  this  step,  he  proposed  to  me,  with 
considerable  earnestness,  that  I  should  succeed  him  in 
the  curacy  of  Olney,  which  he  had  sufficient  influence 
to  procure  for  me.  I  felt  great  reluctance  to  comply 
with  the  proposal,  both  because  it  would  remove  me  from 
Ravenstone, — hitherto  the  principal  sphere  of  my  use- 
fulness,— and  also  because,  from  njy  acquaintance  with 
the  leading  people  at  Olney,  (where  I  had  frequently 
preached,)  and  from  other  circumstances,  I  was  sure 
that  my  plain  distinguishing  style  of  preaching,  especi- 
ally as  connected  with  my  comparative  youth,  would  not 
be  acceptable  there:  I  was  convinced  that  even  from 
Mr.  Newton  many  could  not  endure  what  I  should  deem 
it  my  duty  to  inculcate  :  how  then  could  it  be  expected 
that  they  should  endure  it  from  me  ? — Mr.  N's.  persua- 
sions, however,  with  those  of  a  few  of  his  friends,  extort- 
ed my  unwilling  consent.  But,  as  soon  as  it  was  known, 
that  he  meant  me  to  be  his  successor,  so  general  and  vio- 
lent an  opposition  was  excited,  that  he  said  to  me  by  let- 

*Mr.  Newton's  first  sermon  at  St.  Mary  Woolnoth's  was 
preached  December  19,  1779. 


W)2  CLOSING  PERIOD  AT  [ChAP.  VII. 

ter,  ^  I  believe  SaUin  has  so  strone;  an  objertion  to  your 
coming  to  Olncy,  that  it  would  probably  be  advisable  to 
defer  it  for  the  present.''  This  rejoiced  me  and  many 
others  :  but  our  joy  was  not  of  long  duration. — Let  this 
stiitement  be  kept  in  mind,  when  the  censures  on  my 
ministry  at  Olney  come  under  consideration. 

^'  The  person,  on  whom  the  prevailing  party  at  Olney 
had  fixed  as  successor  to  Mr.  N.,  was,  in  his  opinion,  as 
well  as  in  that  of  all  other  competent  judges,  the  most 
improper  that  could  have  been  selected,  being  com- 
pletely antinomian  in  principle  and  practice.  I  never 
saw  Mr.  N.  so  much  disconcerted  as  on  tliis  occasion. 
But  opposition  was  like  pouring  oil  into  the  fire.  Hr 
therefore  gave  way,  but  with  a  kind  of  foreboding  pre- 
diction of  the  consequences,  at  least  of  some  of  them.'^ 
The  following  events,  which  occured  between  the  time 
of  the  proposed  removal  to  Olney  being  abandoned? 
and  that  of  its  being  subsequently  carried  into  eifect, 
may  seem  to  exhibit  my  father  more  as  a  physician 
than  as  a  divine  :  they  all  tend,  however,  to  display 
his  character. 

^^  Just  before  Mr.  N.  left  Olney,  the  small  pox  made 
its  a])pearance  there,  and,  in  a  considerable  measure 
through  the  intractable  behaviour  of  the  inhabitants, 
both  in  opposing  inocculation,  (which  Mr.  N.  also  disap- 
proved,) and  in  treating  the  diseased  persons  in  a  man- 
ner which  almost  wholly  defeated  the  efforts  of  their  me- 
dical attendants,  a  most  extraordinary  mortality  prevail- 
ed ;  the  funerals  during  the  year  subsequent  to  Mr.  N.'s 
removal  amounting  to  more  than  twice  tlie  number  regis- 
tered in  any  former  year.  Through  shameful  negligence 
and  mismanagement,  the  disease  was  also  communicated 
to  the  inhabitants  of  Ravenstone  :  and  a  poor  woman,  dis- 
rhai  ging  her  duties  as  a  midwife,  was  subjected  to  infec- 


1780.]  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.  153 

tion,  in  a  manner  which  I  can  scarcely  now  reflect  upon 
without  indignation.     After  a  short  season  of  exquisite 
suffering,  she  died  without  any  eruption  appearing  ;  and, 
being  assured  by  the  apothecary  who  attended  her,  that 
the  small  pox  was  not  her  complaint,  I  preached  a  funeral 
sermon  for  her  to  a  large  congregation  from  all  the  adja- 
cent villages  ;  the  corpse  being  in  the  church  during  the 
service.     But,  soon  after,  every  person  who  had  attend- 
ed her  in  her  illness,  and  had  not  previously  had  the 
small  pox,  was  taken  ill  with  symptoms  indicating  that  dis- 
ease.    No  words  can  express  my  anguish  and  conster- 
nation at  this  event.     I  took  it  for  granted  that  numbers 
of  the  congregation  at  the  funeral  would  soon  shew  signs 
of  infection,  and  that  my  ill-judged  zeal,  in  preaching  on 
the  occasion,  would  prove  the  means  of  spreading  the  dire 
disease  widely  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  thus  furnish  an 
opportunity  for  abundant  reviling  to  the  enemies  of  reli- 
gion.    My  alarm,  however,  was  groundless  :  not  one  ad- 
ditional person  by  this  means  took  the  infection  ;  the  ma- 
lady was  not  communicated  to  any  other  village  ;  it  spread 
but  little  in  Ravenstone  ;   and  not  one  person  died,  ex- 
cept the  poor  woman  who  had  brought  the  disease  into 
the  village.'' 

My  father  here  enters,  with  more  medical  detail  than 
might  be  generally  interesting,  into  the  history  of  the 
prevalence  of  the  small  pox  at  Ravenstone,  and  of  the 
goal  fever  at  Stoke.  His  observation  just  made  that  the 
former  disease  ^^  spread  but  little  at  Ravenstone,''  seems  to 
refer  only  to  cases  of  infection.  Instances  of  inoculation 
appear  to  have  been  numerous  :  and,  as  he  had  little  con- 
fidence in  the  neighbouring  apothecaries,  and  none  in  the 
nurses,  who  adhered  to  the  exploded  method  of  treat- 
ment, he,  of  his  own  instance,  called  in  Dr.  Kerr,  and 
"  under  him,"  he  says,   "\  was  physician,  apothecary, 

U 


154  CLOSING  PERIOD  AT  [ClIAP.  VII. 

and  almost  nurse.  1  iiioculatcd  none,  but  some  inoculat- 
ed their  neiglil)oui^,  and  I  subsequently  directed  their 
proceedings.  Nearly  all  my  time  was  for  some  weeks 
employed.  Meanwhile  violent  clamour  was  raised  against 
me,  and  threatenings  of  an  alarming  nature  were  uttered, 
because  I  would  keep  the  windows  open  in  the  rooms 
where  the  diseased  persons  lay,  and  would  allow  those 
patients,  who  were  able,  to  walk  out  in  their  gardens,  oi' 
at  the  back  of  the  village." 

On  the  subject  of  inoculation  itself  he  had  also  great 
difHculties  to  contend  with.  Two  of  his  own  family  (his 
only  surviving  child  and  an  orphan  nephew,)  had  not 
had  the  small  pox.  He  himself  was  '*  always  an  ad 
vocate"'  for  inoculation,  but  "  the  prejudices  of  num- 
bers of  religious  persons  in  the  neighbourhood  were  ex- 
ceedingly strong  against  it."  If  he  should  adopt  it,  he 
knew  that  his  conduct  '*  would  be  severely  arraigned  by 
many,  and  others  would  have  a  powerful  influence.  On 
these  grounds  alone  he  hesitated."  Yet,  while  thus  cir- 
cumstanced, he  constantly  attended  the  sick,  as  above  de- 
scribed. "  I  kept  (he  says)  an  old  suit  of  clothes  in  a 
hovel  at  Ravenstone,  and  before  I  went  among  the  sick  I 
changed  all  my  clothes  in  the  hovel,  and  I  did  the  same 
again  before  I  returned  home.  Yet  I  still  thought  that  I 
hardly  did  my  duty  to  my  family."  At  length,  therefore, 
he  had  the  children  inoculated,  and  procured  them  lodg- 
ings at  Ravenstone.  "  They  passed  through  the  disorder 
very  well,  but  during  their  residence  at  that  place  (he 
proceeds,)  1  met  with  some  instances  of  such  base  ingrati- 
tude, in  respect  of  this  affair,  from  those  whom  I  had 
most  laboured  to  serve,  that,  in  a  very  ill  humour,  I  re- 
turned home  one  evening,  deliberately  resolved  to  go  no 
more  among  the  people,  but  to  leave  them  to  the  conse- 
quences of  their  perverseness.  While  cherishing  this  deter- 


1780.]  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.  155 

mination,  the  words  of  the  apostle,  Be  not  overcome  of  evil, 
but  overcome  evil  with  good,  occurred  to  my  recollection  in 
a  manner  which  I  shall  never  forget.  I  am  no  friend  to  sug- 
gestions or  impressions,  in  the  general  sense  of  the  terms ; 
but  I  cannot  doubt,  that  this  most  excellent  scriptural  ad- 
monition, so  exactly  suited  to  the  state  of  my  mind,  was 
brought  to  my  remembrance  by  the  Holy  Spirit.     (See 
John  xiv.  26.)     It  at  once  set  me  right ;  and  converted 
my  murmurings  into  humble  confessions,  thankful  praises, 
and  fervent  prayers.     I  persevered  in  my  work  and  la- 
bour of  love,  and  the  event  proved  highly  gratifying  and 
creditable.     I  never  in  my  life  spent  so  much  time,  with 
such  earnestness,  in  secret  and  social  prayer,  as  during 
this  trying  season  ;  and  every  prayer  seemed  to  be  an- 
swered and  exceeded.     I  had  my  vexations  :  but  I  would 
gladly  go  through  them  all  again,  if  I  might  enjoy  the 
same  proportion  of  consolation,  and  get  as  much  good  to 
my  own  soul,  and  be  an  instrument  of  as  much  good  to 
others,  as  at  that  time. 

"  When  all  had  terminated  prosperously  respecting 
the  malady,  and  calumny  on  that  ground  was  silenced,  a 
clamour  of  a  widely  different  nature  was  raised.  '  A 
poor  curate,  with  a  family,  had  spent  in  medicines  and 
wine,  and  given  in  money,  what  was  enough  to  ruin  him !' 
Some  of  the  persons  concerned  as  parish  officers,  or  hav- 
ing influence  in  parish  affairs,  might  easily,  and  ought 
certainly,  to  have  set  this  right.  I  have  no  doubt  that  a 
very  large  sum  was  saved  to  the  parish,  yet  the  officers 
paid  nothing  which  they  could  refuse,  not  even  the  well- 
deserved  fee  to  Dr.  Kerr.  Medicines,  wine,  and  money, 
when  urgently  wanted,  were  supplied  by  me  exclusive- 
ly :  on  subsequent  occasions  I  was  generally,  and  some- 
times liberally  aided  by  friends  :  but  at  this  time  all  stood 
aloof.  The  expence,  however,  was  far  less  than  was  com- 


156  CLOSING  PERIOD   AT  [ChAP.  VII. 

uiojily  supposed,  except  that  of  my  time  ;  which,  if  cal- 
culated at  its  pecuniary  value,  might  be  cousiderahle,  but 
caTi  never  be  better  employed  than  in  gratuitously  endea- 
vouring to  do  good  :  and,  as  soon  the  objection  just  men- 
tioned was  raised,  I  received  15/.  5s.  from  persons  at  a 
distance,  unknown  to  me  at  the  time,  and  from  whom  1 
never  before  or  afterwards  received  any  thing.  This  more 
than  lepaid  all'my  disbursements,  and  convinced  me,  ihat 
there  is  7io  risk  in  expending  money ^  in  an  urgent  casej 
and  from  good  motives  ;  and  that  a  penuriuos  prudence^ 
springing  from  weak  faith,  is  impolicy  as  well  as  sin, 

"  Soon  after  these  events  a  circumstance  took  place  at 
Stoke,  with  which  I  was  in  some  measure  concerned, 
(though  not  then  connected  with  the  parish,)  and  which 
appears  to  me  to  suggest  important  cautions.  A  poor 
man,  with  a  large  family,  was  allowed  by  his  baker  to 
run  into  his  debt  to  the  amout  of  10/.  ;  for  which  he  then 
arrested  him,  foolishly  supposing  the  overseers  would 
pay  the  money,  rather  than  suffer  the  man  to  be  thrown 
into  prison.  They,  of  course,  disappointed  his  expecta- 
tion :  the  debtor  was  sent  to  Aylesbury  gaol  ;  where  the 
goal-fever  then  prevailed.  He  took  that  dire  disease. 
His  wife  went  to  see  and  nurse  him  :  he  died  :  she 
returned  home,  sickened,  and  died  :  the  malady  spread 
in  the  village,  sparing  the  children,  but  proving  fatal 
to  the  parents.  The  neighbouring  apothecaries  in  vain 
attempted  to  stop  its  progress.  I  also  ventured  into 
the  recesses  of  misery  and  infection,  and  in  a  few  in- 
stances tried  my  medical  skill,  as  well  as  gave  spiri- 
tual counsel.  But  I  soon  found  that  the  case  baflled 
all  my  efforts.  I  believe  forty  children  had  been  be- 
reft of  one  parent,  and  nearly  twenty  of  both.  I  knew 
the  overseer  :  I  went  to  him,  and  remonstrated  with 
him,  on  the  grounds  not  only  of   mercy  and  humani- 


1780.]  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.  157 

ty,  but  of  policy  ;  and  succeeded  in  convincing  him^ 
that  no  medical  expence  which  could  be  incurred  was 
likely  to  burden  the  parish  a  tenth  part  so  much,  as 
this  fatal  progress  of  the  disease  was  doing.  I  pre- 
vailed with  him  therefore  to  send  immediately  for  Dr. 
Kerr,  who  came  and  spent  nearly  a  whole  day  in  the 
service ;  and  he  laid  down  such  rules  for  the  manage- 
ment of  the  patients,  that  not  one  afterwards  died, 
and  the  disease  was  speedily  extirpated. 

"  The  same  fever  had  broken  out  in  the  goal  at 
Northampton,  as  well  as  at  Aylesbury  :  but  Dr.  Kerr 
having,  as  a  surgeon  in  the  army,  had  much  experi- 
ence in  diseases  of  this  nature,  in  camps,  garrisons,  and 
military  hospitals,  so  effectually  counteracted  it,  that  it 
was  soon  expelled,  and  few  deaths  occurred." 

It  may  be  remarked,  that  Dr.  Kerr  formed  so  favoura- 
ble an  opinion  of  my  father's  medical  talent^  that  he  fre- 
quently urged  him  to  change  his  profession,  and  would 
never  himself  give  his  directions  to  any  other  person  when 
he  was  present. 

He  proceeds  :  "  For  myself,  I  was  much  exposed  to 
infection  in  this  case,  but  I  was  preserved  :  and  I  never 
on  any  occasion  received  harm  from  visiting  persons  af- 
flicted with  infectious  disorders,  except  in  one  instance, 
in  which  I  had  a  very  severe  fever  :  but  I  was  mercifully 
carried  through  it. 

"  In  this  instance,  which  happened,  I  believe,  before 
those  above  related,  an  incident  occurred,  on  which  I 
never  can  reflect  without  astonishment :  but  I  venture 
my  credit  for  veracity  on  the  exact  truth  of  it.  A 
poor  man,  most  dangerously  ill,  of  whose  religious  state 
I  entertained  some  hopes,  seemed  to  me  in  the  agonies 
of  death.  I  sat  by  his  bed  for  a  considerable  time, 
expecting  to  see  him  expire  :  but  at  length  he  awoke 


[5b  CLOSING  PERIOD  AT  [ChAP.  VII. 

as  from  sleep,  «ind  noticed  me.  I  said,  '  You  are  ex- 
tremely ill.'  He  replied,  ^  Yes  ;  but  I  shall  not  die  this 
time/  I  asked  the  ground  of  this  extraordinary  confi- 
dence, saying  that  I  was  persuaded  he  would  not  recover. 
To  this  he  answered  :  '  I  have  just  dreamed  that  you, 
with  a  very  venerable-looking  person,  came  to  me.  He 
asked  you^  what  you  thought  of  me.  ^  What  kind  of 
tree  is  it  ?  Is  there  any  fruit  ?'  You  said,  '  No  :  but 
there  are  blossoms.'  '  Well  then/  he  said^  '  I  will  spare 
it  a  little  longer.'  All  reliance  upon  such  a  dream,  I 
should,  in  other  circumstances,  have  scouted  as  enthusi- 
asm and  presumption  :  but  it  so  exactly  met  my  ideas  as 
to  the  man's  state  of  mind, — which,  however,  I  had  never 
communicated  to  him  ;  and  the  event,  much  beyond  all 
expectation,  so  answered  his  confidence,  by  his  recovery  ; 
that  I  could  not  but  think  there  was  something  peculiar 
in  it. 

"  On  his  recovery,  this  man  for  a  time  went  on  very 
well  :  but  afterwards  he  gave  up  all  attention  to  religion, 
and  became  very  wicked  :  and,  when  I  reminded  him  of 
what  has  been  now  related,  he  treated  the  whole  with  in- 
diiference  ;  not  to  say,  with  profane  contempt.  But  I 
have  since  learned,  from  very  good  authority,  that,  after 
I  left  that  part  of  the  country,  he  was  again  brought 
under  deep  conviction  of  sin ;  recollected  and  dolefidly 
bemoaned  his  conduct  towards  me,  and  with  respect  to 
his  dream  ;  and  became  a  decidedly  religious  character  : 
and.  if  this  be  true,  his  case  certainly  furnishes  a  most 
striking  instance,  as  of  the  force  of  human  depravity,  so 
also  of  the  long  suffering  and  tender  mercy  of  our  God. 
I  believe  he  is  still  living  at  Stoke  Goldington. 

•*'  After  Mr.  Newton  had  left  Olney  about  a  year,  his 
j)redictions  concerning  his  successor  were  amply  verified : 


1780.]  WESTON  UNDERWOOD.  159 

for?  having  embroiled  himself  with  the  parishioners^  and 
acted  in  such  a  manner  as  to  incur  public  rebuke  from 
the  Archdeacon  at  the  visitation,  the  curate,  at  length, 
in  a  pettish  letter  to  the  Earl  of  Dartmouth,  patron  of 
the  living,  threatened  to  relinquish  his  charge.  He  prob- 
ably  did  not  mean  to  be  taken  at  his  word  ;  but  his  Lord- 
ship, communicating  with  the  vicar,  his  implied  resigna- 
tion of  the  curacy  was  admitted,  and  a  deputation,  inclu- 
ding some  of  the  persons  who  before  opposed  my  succeed- 
ing Mr.  Newton,  was  sent  to  me,  earnestly  requesting 
me  to  accept  the  vacant  situation.  I  felt  great  reluctance 
to  comply,  hesitated  for  some  time,  and  w  ent  to  London 
to  consult  those  ministers  with  whom  I  had  any  acquaint- 
ance. They  all  considered  it  as  my  duty  to  accede  to  the 
proposal ;  which  I  accordingly  did.  But,  as  soon  as  the 
late  curate  of  Olney  knew  that  I  was  appointed,  and  had 
in  consequence  resigned  Ravenstone,  he  applied  to  the 
vicar,  and  was  accepted  as  my  successor  there  !  Had  I 
foreseen  this,  I  should  not  have  consented  to  remove  to 
Olney  :  for  I  knew  that  he  had  still  many  admirers  in 
that  place,  and  I  was  at  first  full  of  sad  apprehensions  as 
to  the  effect  of  his  smooth  and  soothing  doctrines  on  my  Ra- 
venstone people.  But  I  could  now  do  no  more  than 
pray,  Lord^  turn  the  counsel  of  Jihitophel  into  foolish- 
ness ! — for  I  considered  a  more  segacious  opposer  th^an 
the  visible  one,  as  the  author  of  this  measure. — A  tempo- 
rary confusion  and  vexation,  almost  beyond  description, 
ensued  :  but  it  was  not  long  before  all  terminated  credit- 
ably and  comfortably. 

"  The  curacy  of  Olney  was  only  30/.  a  year  and  a 
house,  with  rather  better  surplice  fees  than  at  Ravenstone. 
For  that  curacy  I  had  received  40/.  a  year,  and  some  as- 
sistance which  I  could  not  expect  to  retain  ;  and,  as  be- 
fore observed,  I  lived  rent-free  at  Weston  :  so  that  the 


160  RESIDENCE  [ChAP.  VII. 

change  which  I  now  made  was  not,  in  the  first  instance, 
to  my  secular  advantage.  The  people  of  Olney,  how- 
ever, hadheen  accustomed  to  raise  a  suhscription  for  Mr. 
Newton,  without  any  solicitation ;  and  the  managing 
persons  promised  to  do  the  same  for  me.  But  discontent 
soon  arose  :  the  leading  characters  did  not  act :  others 
did  not  come  forward  :  and  I  was  decidedly  averse  to  so- 
liciting any  party  :  so  that  for  a  year  and  a  half  I  receiv- 
ed less  than  my  former  income.  I  was  often  greatly 
straitened,  and  sometimes  discouraged  :  but  I  persevered 
in  every  service  of  the  church  to  which  the  people  had 
been  accustomed,  and  which  was  practicable,  though  it 
was  much  more  than  could  be  demanded.  I  particular, 
I  continued  the  weekly  lecture,  though  very  poorly  at- 
tended. 

^^  And  here  I  would  mention,  that,  after  I  decidedly  em- 
braced my  present  views  of  the  gospel,  and  of  the  Chris- 
tian ministry,  I  constantly  preached  two  weekly  lectures, 
one  in  each  of  my  parishes,  without  any  remuneration. 
My  congregations  were  small,  but  very  select :  at  Raven- 
stone,  on  an  average,  not  more  than  forty  ;  afterwards  at 
Olney,  (though  that  town  contained  about  two  thousand 
five  hundred  inhabitants)  seldom  above  fifty  or  sixty  ; 
and  at  Weston,  often  under  thirty.  Yet  I  have  reason 
to  think  that  these  services  were  peculiarly  blessed  to 
others,  and  they  were  especially  comfortable  to  my  own 
soul.  Most  of  my  few  hearers  I  considered  as  my  chil- 
dren ;  and  I  gave  them,  w  ith  much  feeling  and  affection, 
many  very  particular  instructions,  cautions,  and  admoni- 
tions, which  1  could  hardly  have  introduced  into  addresses 
to  more  general  congregations,  and  for  which  the  one,  or 
perhaps  two  sermons  on  the  Lord's  day  did  not  allow  suf- 
ficient time.  Were  I  now  situate  in  a  village  or  neigh- 
bourhood, in  which  twenty  or  thirty  people  would  prob- 


1781 1785.]        AT  OLNEY.  161 

ably  attend,  I  certainly  should  preach  a  constant  week-day 
lecture,  even  to  so  mall  a  company*.  In  this  respect,  I 
think,  many  pious  ministers,  esteeming  it  hardly  worth 
while  to  preach  to  a  few,  forget  the  iuKaipcec,  ^^^.tpa^,  of  the 
apostlef,  and  lose  a  most  important  opportunity  of  edify- 
ing their  little  flock  in  their  most  holy  faith.  They 
preach  the  gospel  on  the  Sunday,  at  large  ;  but  they  do 
not  attend  to  our  Saviour's  words,  teaching  theyn  (their 
converts)  to  observe  all  things  whatsoever  I  have  com- 
manded you. 

"  Notwithstanding  difficulties,  I,  in  one  way  or  other, 
supported  my  credit  at  Olney .  But  I  was  here  surrounded 
with  numerous  and  most  distressed  poor  persons,  for 
whom  Mr.  Newton's  more  abundant  resources,  derived 
from  affluent  friends,  had  enabled  him  to  do  considerable 
things  :  J  and  this  added  to  my  embarrassment.  They 
were  sensible,  however,  of  my  different  situation,  and  I 
must  say  expressed  satisfaction  and  thankfulness  for  the 
far  more  scanty  aid  which  I  could  afford  them. 

"  After  I  had  been  at  Olney  about  a  year  and  a  half, 
Lady  Austen,  having  come  to  visit  her  sister,  who  was 
married  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Jones,  curate  of  the  adjacent 
village  of  Clifton,  proposed  to  take  my  first  floor,  and 
some  other  accomodation  which  I  could  conveniently  spare : 
and  she  accordingly  became  an  inmate  at  the  vicarage. 

*  In  fact,  my  father  did  so  atAston  during  a  great  part  of  the  year. 

t  *'  In  season,  out  of  season."  2  Tim.  iv.  2. 

%  "  Be  hospitable,  said  Mr.  Thornton,  and  keep  an  open  house 
for  such  as  are  worthy  of  entertainment :  help  the  poor  and  needy: 
I  will  statedly  allow  you  200/  a  year,  and  readily  send  whatever 
you  have  occasion  to  draw  for  more. — M.  N.  lold  me,  that  he 
thought  he  had  received  of  Mr.  Thornton  upwards  of  3000/.  in 
this  way,  during  the  time  he  resided  at  Olney." — Life  of  Newton, 
liv  Cecil. 

m  X 


162  RESIDENCE  [ChAP.    VII. 

This  added  10/.  a  year  to  my  income,  and  saved  me  some 
expences." 

It  ap])ears  from  Cowpers  letters,  as  published  by 
Mr.  Hayley,  that  Lady  Austen  entered  upon  her  lodgings 
at  the  vicarage  in  the  autumn  of  1782,  soon  after  the  birth 
of  my  father's  fifth  child.  This  child,  a  son,  lived  only 
six  months.  It  was  born  with  a  mark  upon  the  face,  ex- 
tending over  one  eye,  which  turned  to  a  sore,  and  ^^' after 
several  distressing  weeks''  ended  in  mortification.  Its 
death  I  find  thus  announced  by  Mr  Cowper,  writing  to 
Mr.  Newton,  February  8,  1783.  ^*  Mr.  S—'s  la,st  child 
is  dead.  It  lived  a  little  while  in  a  world  of  which  it 
knew  nothing,  and  is  gone  to  another  in  which  it  is  al- 
ready bocome  wiser  than  the  wisest  it  h;is  left  behind. 
— The  earth  is  a  grain  of  sand,  but  the  interests  of  man 
are  commensurate  with  the  heavens.''* — My  father  says 
of  it,  writing  to  a  friend,  "  He  was  a  gi'eat  sufferer,  and 
we  had  in  him  a  great  and  needful  trial ;  but  the  issue 
was  mercy.  We  have,  I  trust,  three  in  heaven,  and  have 
cause  for  thankfulness." 

I  find  from  the  letter  just  quoted,  that,  soon  after  this 
event,  my  father  visited  his  relations  in  Lincolnshire, 
and  derived  much  satisfaction  from  his  journey.  '^  I  found 
my  friends  more  cordial,  and  more  disposed  to  give  me 
a  patient  hearing  than  I  expected,  and  some  of  them 
treading  the  ways  of  the  Lord  ;  others  somewhat  hopeful. 
I  had  a  door  of  utterance  opened  unto  me  beyond  expec- 
tation, and  returned  home  full  of  sanguine  hopes  that  some 
good  would  i)e  done  by  my  journey.  This,  it  seems,  was 
more  than  my  poor  foolisli  heart  could  bear:  there  needed 
some  bitter  to  counteract  all  this  sweet.  Therefore,  my 
wise  and  kind  physician,  (having  in  mercy  brought  mc 

*Vol.  III.  Let.  69. 


1781 1785.]        AT  OLNEY.  163 

home  first,)  immediately  discerning  the  danger,  applied 
the  remedy  :  and  I  am  very  base  if  I  do  not  heartily  thank 
him  for  it.'' — This  remedy  was  a  severe  attack  of  his  asth- 
matic complaint,  "  with  several  relapses.'' 

He  proceeds  in  his  narrative  :  "  After  Lady  Austen 
had  been  with  me  for  a  short  time,  she  learned  the  cir- 
cumstances respecting  the  subscription  promised,  but  not 
raised  for  me  :  and  she  found  that  several  of  the  inhabi- 
tants were  disposed  cheerfully  to  contribute,  if  any  one 
would  collect  their  contributions.  In  consequence,  she 
herself,  together  with  her  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Jones, 
without  my  solicitation  or  knowledge,  undertook  to  set 
the  business  forward.  And  from  this  time  a  regular  sub- 
scription was  raised,  small  indeed  in  itself,  and  compared 
with  what  it  had  formerly  been,  but  sufficient  to  be  a 
great  relief  to  me,  and  to  lay  me  under  obligations,  which^ 
I  fear,  I  never  w^as  able  to  compensate  in  the  manner 
most  agreeable  to  my  desires  and  prayers. 

"  In  the  vicarage- house  at  Olney,  during  Lady  Austen's 
residence  there,  most  of  those  events,  which  are  recorded 
in  the  life  of  Cowper,  as  pertaining  to  this  period,  oc- 
curred. Here  '  the  Task'  w^as  imposed  and  undertaken. 
Here  '  John  Gilpin'  was  told  as  a  story,  in  prose,  and  the 
plan  formed  of  giving  it  circulation  in  verse.  Some  things 
in  the  published  account  are  not  very  accurately  stated, 
as  I  know^,  who  saw  the  springs  which  moved  the  machine, 
and  which  could  not  be  seen  by  a  more  distant  spectator, 
or  mere  visitant. — After  some  time  the  cordiality  between 
Mrs.  Unwin  and  Mr.  Cowper,  on  the  one  part,  and  Lady 
Austen,  on  the  other,  was  interrupted ;  and  my  lodger 
suddenly  left  me,  to  my  no  small  regret." 

During  her  continuance  at  Olney,  Mr.  Hayley  observes, 
the  three  friends  "  might  be  almost  said  to  make  one  fa- 
mily, as  it  became  their  custom  to  dine  always  together. 


1G4  UESiDENCE  [Chap.  VfL 

alteniaU'ly  in  tlic  houses  of  the  two  ladies  :*'  and  it  was 
in  order  to  faciliUite  this  constiint  intercourse,  that  a  door 
was  opened  in  the  vicarage  garden  wall  towards  the  back 
of  Mr.  Cowpcr's  ])remises. 

'*•  After  Lady  Austen  left  Olney/'  my  father  says,  *^  I 
was  induced  to  receive  into  my  family  a  young  lady  from 
London,  of  the  name  of  Gines,  afterwards  married  to 
John  Barber,  Esq.  This  proved,  I  trust,  an  important 
event,  in  the  best  sense,  to  her,  and  through  her  to  her 
family;  as  well  as  eventually  to  myself.  She  continued 
with  me  about  two  years,  till  my  removal  to  London,  and 
during  the  latter  part  of  the  time  she  was  joined  by  hei' 
younger  sister,  subsequently  the  wife  of  the  late  Rev.  Ste- 
phen Langston,  Rector  of  Little  Horwood,  Bucks. 

'^  When  I  published  the  '  Force  of  Truth,'  I  had 
never  attended  to  any  controversies  concerning  church 
government,  or  any  kindred  subjects.  I  found  myself  a 
minister  of  the  establishment,  and,  as  I  saw  no  suflicient 
leason  to  relinquish  my  station,  I  was  satisfied  that  it  was 
my  duty  to  retain  it.  But,  soon  after,  the  controversy 
concerning  baptism,''  whether  it  should  be  admin- 
istered to  infants,  or  only  to  adults  professing  faith, 
^'  fell  in  my  way  ;  and,  for  some  time,  I  was  almost  ready 
to  conclude,  that  the  antipsedobaptists  were  right.  This 
gave  me  great  uneasiness  :  not  because  I  was  solicitous 
whether,  in  the  search  after  truth,  I  were  led  among 
them  or  elsewhere  ;  but  because  I  feared  being  misled  ; 
and  deprecated  following  my  publication  with  a  further  and 
fieedlcss  change,  which  might  bring  discredit  upon  it. — 
Many,  very  many  prayers,  accompanied  with  tears,  did 
I  pour  out  on  this  subject.  1  read  books  on  both  sides 
of  the  question,  but  received  no  satisfaction.  I  became 
even  afraid  of  administering  baptism  or  the  Lord's  sup- 
per.    But  I  said  so  myself,  ^  He  that  believeth  shall  ?iot 


1781 1785.]       AT  OLNEY.  165 

7nake  haste  :  I  must  retain  my  station^  till  I  have  taken 
time  to  examine  the  subject  fully  :  and  I  must  in  the 
mean  time  do  what  retaining  that  station  requires.' — It 
is  remarkable  that,  in  this  instance  alone,  my  wife  appear 
ed  greatly  distressed,  in  the  prospect  of  my  changing 
my  sentiments. — At  length  I  laid  aside  all  controversial 
writings,  and  determined  to  seek  satisfaction  on  this  ques- 
tion, as  I  had  on  others,  by  searching  the  scriptures  and 
prayer.  I  was  no  less  time  than  three  quarters  of  a  year 
engaged  in  this  investigation,  before  I  came  to  a  conclu- 
sion :  but  I  was  then  so  fully  satisfied  that  the  infant 
children  of  believers,  and  of  all  who  make  a  credible 
profession  of  faith,  are  the  proper  subjects  of  baptism, 
that  I  have  never  since  been  much  troubled  about  it. 

"  This  was  my  conclusion,  especially  from  the  identity 
of  the  covenant  made  with  Abraham,  and  that  still  made 
with  believers  ;  and  from  circumcision  being  the  sacra- 
ment of  regeneration  under  the  old  dispensation,  as  bap- 
tism is  under  the  new,  and  the  seal  of  the  righteousness 
of  faith. — Abraham  received  this  seal  long  after  he  be- 
lieved ;  Isaac,  when  an  infant ;  Ishmael,  when  thirteen 
years  of  age.  The  men  of  Abraham's  household,  and 
Esau,  though  uninterested  in  the  promises  concerning 
Canaan,  yet,  as  a  part  of  Abraham's  family,  and  of  the 
visible  church,  were  circumcised  by  the  command  of  God 
himself.  The  circumcision  of  infants  was  enjoined,  with 
denunciations  of  wrath  against  those  who  neglected  it. 
The  apostles  were  Israelites,  accustomed  to  this  system. 
Adult  gentiles  were  admitted  among  the  Jews  by  circum- 
cision, and  their  male  children  were  circumcised  also. 
In  Christ,  there  is  neither  male  nor  female. — Had  only 
adults  been  designed  to  be  the  subjects  of  Christian  bap- 
tism,  some  prohibition  of  admitting  infants  would  have 
been   requisite ;  and  we  should  never  have  read,  as  we 


Hi6  TtESIDENCK  [CmAT.  VII. 

do,  ol*  fwiiscltnhls  heing  baptized,  without  any  limitation 
or  exception  of  tliis  kind  being  intimated. — In  short, 
unless  it  ean  be  proved  that  circumcision  was  not  the 
sign,  or  sacrament,  of  regeneration,  even  as  baptism  now 
is,  I  cannot  see  how  the  argument  can  be  answered  :  and 
all  the  common  objections  against  inftint-baptism,  as  ad- 
ministered to  subjects  incapable  of  the  professions  re- 
quired and  the  benefits  intended,  bear  with  equal  force 
against  infant-circumcision. 

"  The  conclusion,  thus  drawn,  rests  not  on  this  one 
ground  alone  :  collateral  proof  was  not,  and  is  not,  over- 
looked :  but  my  idea  always  was,  that  not  the  privilege 
of  the  infant,  but  the  duty  of  the  parent,  is  the  grand 
thing  to  be  ascertained  :  and  this  clears  away  much  ex- 
traneous matter  from  the  argument. 

'*  To  the  question  of  immersion,  or  sprinkling,  or  pour- 
ing, I  never  attached  any  great  importance.  Immersion 
is  doubtless  baptism  :  and  so  is  sprinkling,  or  pouring, 
according  to  my  unvaried  judgment.  If  a  few  texts  seem 
to  allude  to  baptism  by  figures  taken  from  immersion, 
how  many  speak  of  the  baptism  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
under  the  idea  oi poKring  out  upon  us  ? 

""  The  investigation  of  this  controversy  brought  a  va- 
riety of  other  subjects  under  my  consideration,  of  which 
I  had  not  before  at  all  thought.  I  met  with  many  objec- 
tions to  the  established  church,  which  I  was  no  compe- 
tent to  answer,  exce])t  by  reciprocal  objections  to  many 
things  in  use  among  our  opponents,  which  I  thouglit  at 
least  e(jually  unscriptural.  In  this  unsettled  state  of 
mind  I  was  induced,  by  the  following  means,  to  preach 
irregidarly. 

*•  On  becoming  curate  of  Olnev,  I  was  asked  to  preach 
some  annual  sermons  which  Mr.  Newton  had  been  used 
to  preach  :  and  this  brought  me  acquainted  with  several 


1781 1785.]        AT  ©LNEY.  167 

families,  chiefly  iu  Northampton  and  the  neighbor irhood, 
in  which  he  had  expounded  to  private  companies.    When 
I  had  ventured  on  this  rather  irregular  service,  (in  wliich 
I  had  not  before  been  engaged, )  I  Vv  as  drawn  on  further 
and  further,  till  I  was  led  to  preach  frequently  (always 
on  the  week-days,)  in  houses  and  other  private  buildings; 
commonly  to  numerous  congregations.     This  service  was 
in  no  degree  advantageous  to  me,  in  a  secular  point  of 
view,  but  the  contrary  ;  and  the  state  of  my  health,  op- 
pressed with  most  distressing  asthma,  far  beyond  what  I 
have  now  for  many  years  experienced,  rendered  it  ex- 
tremely self-denying.     I  often  rode  seventy  or  eighty 
miles,  and  preached  four  or  five  sermons,  between  Mon- 
day morning  and  Thursday  noon,  (for  I  always  returned 
to  my  week-day  lectures,)  while  more  than  half  the  night 
I  sat  up  in  bed,  in  strange  houses,  unable  to  lie  down 
from  oppression  of  breath,  and  longing  for  the  morning  : 
and,  on  my  return  home,  and  sometimes  while  from  home, 
the  remedies  which  I  was  obliged  to  employ  were  of  the 
most  unpleasant  nature.'' 

One  of  the  painful  "  remedies,''  to  which  my  father's 
bilious  and  asthmatic  complaints  compelled  him,  at  this 
period,  and  for  many  years  after,  to  have  very  frequent 
recourse,  was  strong  antimonial  emetics.  Another  may 
be  learned  from  the  following  passage  of  Mr.  Cowper's 

letters.     "  Mr.  S has  been  ill  almost  ever  since  you 

left  us,  and  last  Saturday,  as  on  many  foregoing  Satur- 
days, was  obliged  to  clap  on  a  blister,  by  way  of  prepa- 
ration for  his  Sunday  labours.  He  cannot  draw  breath 
upon  any  other  terms. — If  holy  orders  were  always  con- 
ferred upon  such  conditions,  I  question  but  even  bish- 
opricks  themselves  would  want  an  occupant.  But  he  is 
easy  and  cheerful."* 

*  Vol.  iii.  Letter  81  :  to  Rev.  J.  Newton,  Sep.  8,  1783. 


I  OS  HESIDENCK  [Chap.  VII. 

My  father  proceeds  concerning  these  irregular  engage- 
ments :  **  I  am  not  conscious  that  amhition  was  my  mo- 
tivcj  though  it  might  intermingle  :  but  I  hope  that  zeal 
lor  the  honour  of  Christ,  and  love  to  souls  influenced  me. 
I  felt  no  consciousness  of  blame  in  what  I  did,  nor  per- 
ceived, that,  in  order  to  consistency,  it  was  needful  for 
me  to  choose  one  ground  or  the  other,  and  act  either  as  a 
clergyman  of  the  establishment,  or  as  one  who  had  re- 
ceded from  it.  I  had  abundant  proof  that  my  irregular 
exertions  were  attended  with  much  success  :  and  I  did 
not,  as  I  have  subsequently  done,  see  much  reason  to 
doubt,  whether  the  evident  usefulness  of  these  labours, 
in  many  individual  instances,  was  not  counterbalanced  by 
the  hindrances  which  such  proceedings  throw  in  the  way 
of  other  ministers,  and  candidates  for  the  ministry,  and 
by  the  general  obloquy  which  they  entail  upon  the  whole 
body  of  clergy,  in  other  respects  agreeing  in  sentiment 
with  the  pei^ons  who  thus  deviate  from  established  order. 
This  consideration,  taken  alone,  would  probably  induce 
me,  with  my  present  views,  to  decline  such  services, 
even  were  I  placed  in  my  former  circumstiuices  :  but  it 
did  not  then  occur  to  me.  Gradually,  however,  I  be- 
came more  sensible  of  the  inconsistency  and  impropriety 
of  attempting  to  unite  things  in  themselves  discordant, 
and  more  attached  to  the  established  church  :  so  that, 
after  I  had  been  a  few  years  in  London,  I  refused  to  preach 
irregularly,  except  as  once  in  the  year  I  consented  to  ex- 
change pulpits  with  Mr.  Hill  of  Surry  Chapel,  that  be- 
ing the  stipulated  condition  of  his  preaching  a  charity- 
sermon  for  the  Lock  Hospital  :  and,  when  I  took  my  pre- 
sent living  (before  which  I  could  not  be  said,  after  I 
came  to  London,  to  have  any  thing  directly  from  the 
church,)  I  immediately  refused  to  do  this  also,  and  deter- 
mined no  more  to  deviate  from  regularity. 


1781—1785.]  AT  OLNEY.  169 

''  I  do  not  say  this  as  blaming  those  who  once  belonged 
to  the  establishment^  but  have  since  been  induced  to  la- 
bour in  a  different  part  of  the  vineyard  ;  but  merely  as 
accounting  for  my  own  conduct ;  and  as  bearing  my  de- 
cided testimony  against  the  practice^  at  present  not  com- 
mon, of  holding  a  living  and  yet  preaching  irregularly. 
The  reason  applies,  in  good  measure,  in  respect  of  cura- 
cies and  lectureships ;  but  not  with  equal  force.  As  to 
those  who  have  nothing  of  the  kind,  neither  livings,  lec- 
tureships, nor  curacies,  and  who  preach  at  one  time  in  a 
licensed  meeting-house,  or  elsewhere,  and  in  a  church 
at  another  time  ;  I  would  do  the  same,  were  I  a  dissent- 
ing minister,  if  I  were  permitted  to  do  it.  The  veto  be- 
longs to  the  bishop,  not  the  7iolo  to  the  preacher.'' 

The  justness  of  most  of  these  observations  commends 
them  at  once  to  our  approbation.  On  two  points,  how- 
ever, I  am  not  able  to  discern  the  fairness  of  the  dis- 
tinctions made.  I  know  of  no  engagements  into  which  an 
incumbent  enters  to  comply  with  established  order,  which 
are  not  also  virtually  made  by  a  curate  or  a  lecturer  :  nor 
can  I  readily  admit,  that  he  who  holds  a  situation  as  a 
minister,  only  by  virtue  of  his  being  a  clergyman  of  the 
established  church,  can  be  said  to  "  have  nothing  from 
the  church,"  in  such  a  sense  as  to  be  free  from  its  rules, 
and  from  the  engagements  which  he  formed  on  being  ad- 
mitted to  holy  orders.  It  appears  to  me,  that  whoever 
avails  himself  of  his  clerical  character  continues  under 
the  engagements  which  he  made  in  order  to  acquire  it. 
Though,  however,  I  thus  venture  to  question  the  cor- 
rectness of  my  father's  reasoning  on  this  particular  point, 
I  am  confidant  that  it  was  perfectly  satisfactory  to  his  own 
mind,  and  implied  no  sort  of  subterfuge  or  evasion.  Be- 
yond all  doubt  he  viewed  things  just  as  he  here  states 
them. 

Y 


170  RESIDENCK  [ChAP.  VII. 

In  connexion  with  this  discussion  on  irregular  minis- 
trations, the  reader  may  perhaps  not  he  displeased  to 
have  placed  before  him  what  has  always  appeared  to  me 
a  very  excellent  passage,  on  itinerant  preaching,  ex- 
tracted from  my  fathers  Commentary  on  2  Chronicles 
xvii. — ^*  Notwitstanding  the  prejudices  of  mankind,  and 
the  indiscretions  of  individuals,  an  itinerant  preacher^ 
if  duly  qualified  and  sent  forth?  is  one  of  the  most  honour- 
able and  useful  characters,  that  can  be  found  upon  earth : 
and  there  needs  no  other  proof  that,  when  this  work  is 
done  properly  and  with  perseverance,  it  forms  the  grand 
method  of  spreading  widely,  and  rendering  efficacious, 
religious  knowledge,  than  the  experience  of  the  church 
in  all  ages  ;  for  great  reformations  and  revivals  of  religion 
have  generally  been  thi:s  effected.  It  is  especially  sanc- 
tioned by  the  exar^iple  of  Christ  and  his  apostles,  and  re- 
commended as  the  divine  method  of  spreading  the  gospel 
through  the  nations  of  the  earth ;  itinerant  preaching 
having  almost  always  preceded,  and  made  way  for,  the 
stated  ministry  of  regular  pastors.  But  it  is  a  work  which 
requires  peculiar  talents  and  dispositions,  and  a  peculiar  call 
in  providence  ;  and  is  not  rashly  and  hastijy  to  be  ventured 
upon  by  every  novice,  who  has  learned  to  speak  about  the 
gospel,  and  has  more  zeal,  than  knowledge,  prudence, 
humility,  or  ex])erience.  An  unblemished  character,  a 
disinterested  spirit,  an  exemplary  deadness  to  the  world, 
unaffected  humility,  deep  acquaintance  with  the  human 
heart,  and  prepai-ation  for  enduring  the  cross,  not  only 
with  boldness,  but  with  meekness,  patience,  and  sweet- 
ness of  temper,  are  indispensably  necessary  in  such  a  ser- 
vice. They  who  engage  in  it  should  go  upon  broad 
scriptural  grounds,  and  dwell  chiefly  upon  those  grand 
essentials  of  religion,  in  which  pious  men  of  different  per- 
suasions are  agreed ;  plainly  proving  every  thing  from 


1781—1785.]  ATOLNEY.  171 

the  word  of  God,  running  nothing  into  extremes,  and 
avoiding  all  disputes,  however  urged  to  it,  about  the  shih- 
holeths  of  a  party.     In  this  way  itinerant  preaching  is  a 
blessing  which  all,  who  love  the  souls  of  men,  must  wish 
to  be  vouchsafed  to  every  part  of  every  nation  upon  earth. 
Afid,  if  those  who  are  in  authority  would  employ  select 
men  of  known  and  approved  piety  and  ability,  protected 
and  countenanced  by  them,  to  go  from  city  to  city*  and 
from  village  to  village,  through  the  kingdom,  teaching  in 
every  place  the  plain  acknowledged  truths  and  precepts 
of  the  Bible,   immense  good    might  be  done.      Those 
stated  teachers,  who  have  been  grossly  negligent  or  pro- 
fligate, must  either  be  disgraced  or  reformed ;  others 
might  be  stirred  up  to  use  greater  diligence  ;  and  the  in- 
structions of  stated  faithful  ministers  would  receive  an  ad- 
ditional sanction,  which  could  not  fail  of  producing  a 
happy  eilfect.'' — It  may  be  observed  that  at  the  period 
of  the  Reformation,  in  the  reign  of  Edward  VI,  a  practice 
of  this  sort  existed  in  our  church,  under  the  sanction  of 
authority.   Six  eminent  persons  (of  whom  John  Knox  was 
one,  were  appointed  to  go  through  various  districts  of  the 
kingdom  as  preachers  :*  and  that  such  an  office  was  not 
continued  has  proabably  been  a  great  loss  to  our  church. 
I  have  heard  a  wise  and  excellent  clergyman  lately  de- 
ceased,  who  was  always  a  strict  adherent  to  order,  la- 
ment  the   mismanagement   of  things  in  the  church  of 
England,  as  compared  with  some  other  establishments. 
Had  Whitfield  and   Wesley  ( he   said, )   arisen  in  the 
Church  of  Rome,  that  hierarchy  would  have  given  scope 
to  their  zeal,  and  yet  have   made   it  conduce   to   the 
support  of  the  church,  instead  of  being  exercised  to  its 
subversion. 

*  Burnett  and  Strype.     See  M'Crie's  Life  of  Knox,  aniio  1551. 


172  RESIDENCE  [ClIAP.   VII. 

Before  we  quit  this  subject,  I  would  observe,  that  one 
instance  of  the  usefuhiess  of  my  father's  irregular  lal)ours, 
while  he  resided  in  Buckinghamshire,  is  entitled  to  par- 
ticular specification.     It  was  thus  announced  to  him  by 
his  old  and  valued  friend  the  Rev.  Dr.  Ryland  of  Bristol, 
about  a  month  before  his  last  illness.     '^  What  led  mc 
to  write  now,  was  a  letter  I  received  from  Dr.  Carey  yes- 
terday, in  which  he  says,  '  Pray  give  my  thanks  to  dear 
Mr.   Scott  for  his   History  of  the   Synod  of  Dort.     I 
would  write  to  him  if  I  could  command  time.     If  there 
be  any  thing  of  the  work  of  God  in  my  soul,  I  owe  much 
of  it  to  his  preaching,  when  I  first  set  out  in  the  ways  of 
the  Lord.'  ''     And  the  following  is  my  father's  reply  in 
his  last  letter  to  Dr.  R.,  dated  Feb.  13,  1821.     "  I  am 
surprised  as  well  as  gratified  at  your  message  from  Dr. 
Carey.     He  heard  me  preach  only  a  few^  times,  and  that 
as  far  as  I  know,  in   my  rather  irregular  excursions  : 
though  I  often  conversed  and  prayed  in  his  presence,  and 
endeavoured  to  answer  his  sensible  and  pertinent  enqui- 
ries, when  at  Hackleton.     But  to  have  suggested  even  a 
single  useful  hint  to  such  a  mind  as  his,  may  be  consider- 
ed as  a  high  privilege,  and  matter  of  gratitude.     Send 
my  kindest  remembrance  to  him  when  you  write." 

It  can  hardly  be  necessary  to  observe,  that  the  person 
referred  to  is  the  distinguished  baptist  missionary  in  Ben- 
gal, who  is  perhaps  better  entitled  than  any  other  indivi- 
dual to  the  praise  of  having  given  the  first  hnpidse  to 
the  extraordinary  exertions  of  the  present  age,  for  the  pro- 
pagation of  Christianity  in  the  world.  I  well  remember  the 
late  Rev.  Andrew  Fuller  reporting,  at  my  father's  house, 
in  the  year  1792,  the  impression  which  had  been  made 
upon  an  association-meeting  of  his  own  denomination,  by 
Mr.  Carey's  sermon,  on  the  address  to  the  church,  (Isaiah 
liv.  2,)  Lengthen  thy  cords,  and  strengthen  thy  stakes; 


1781— -1785.]  AT  GLNEY.  173 

from  which  he  pressed  the  two  propositions  that  we  should 
expect  great  things,  and  attempt  great  things.  Hence 
originated  the  Baptist  Missionary  Society.  The  London 
Missionary  Society  followed ;  then  the  Church  Missionary 
Society ;  then  the  Bible  Society ;  and,  in  succession,  va- 
rious other  institutions,  all,  we  trust,  destined  to  contri- 
bute their  share  to  that  great  and  blessed  consummation^ 

"  By  prophecy's  unerring  finger  mark'd 
To  faith's  strong  eye." 

"  During  this  term  of  my  life,"  my  father  proceeds, 
*^  I  was  called  on,  in  consequence  of  its  being  impracti- 
cable for  the  Rev.  Henry  Venn  and  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Robinson  to  perform  a  service  designed  for  one  of  them, 
to  preach  a  funeral  sermon  at  Creaton,  in  Northampton- 
shire, for  the  Rev.  Mr.  Maddox,  who  had  laboured  there 
very  usefully  for  several  years.  The  day  was  very  wet, 
and  I  rode  twenty  miles  in  a  heavy  rain  to  the  service, 
and  the  same  in  returning  from  it :  yet  during  the  time 
of  service  it  was  fair.  The  concourse  of  people  was  very 
great,  and  the  church  very  small.  I  ventured  to  go  into 
the  church-yard,  where  I  preached  to  at  least  two  thou- 
sand five  hundred  persons.  The  congregation  was  atten- 
tive to  a  degree  seldom  witnessed  :  and  for  twenty  years 
after  the  effects  of  that  sermon  were  not  forgotten,  even 
if  they  now  are.  On  the  following  Sunday,  I  preached 
twice  in  the  same  church-yard  to  nearly  as  large  congre- 
gations :  but  I  never,  on  any  other  occasion  preached  in 
the  open  air. 

''  In  this  connexion  an  incident  may  be  introduced 
which  occurred  at  an  early  period,  but  my  part  in  which 
only  now  became  known,  in  one  of  my  excursions  into 
Northamptonshire . 

"  As  far  back  as  the  year  1776,  the  Northampton 


174  UKSiDENcK  [Chap.  VII. 

newspaper,  during  several  successive  weeks,  contained 
sharp  disputations  papers  between  two  parties  of  the  in- 
dependent dissenters,  beloni^ng  to  the  meeting  of  which 
Dr.  Doddridge  Ijod  formerly  been  minister.     I  felt  much 
displeased  with  the  spirit  manifested  in  these  papers  ; 
and  I  wrote  (under  what  signature  I  do  not  now  remem- 
ber.) a  letter  shewing  the  bad  tendency  of  such  discus- 
sions in  a  public  print,  and  of  these  mutual  criminations 
of  persons  professing;  s^odlimss  ;    concluding  with  the 
apostle's  words.  If^i/f"  bite  and  devour  one  another,  take 
heed  that  ye  he  not  consumed  one  of  another, ^^    (Gal.  v. 
15.)    The  consequence  was,  that  in  the  next  newspaper 
both  parties  entreated  the  writer  to  come  forward,  and 
be  the  umpire  of  their  differences  !  Little  did  they  think 
how  incompetent  he  was  for  such  an  arduous  office,  or 
suspect  his  youth  and  inexperience. — I  took  no  notice  of 
this  proposal.     The  publisher  of  the  paper  declared  his 
purpose  of  inserting  no  more  on  the  subject :  the  dispute 
was  so  far  quashed  :  and,  though  many  conjectures  were 
formed,  the  writer  of  the  letter  was  never  known  till 
some  time  after  I  had  removed  to  Olney.     But,  being 
then  at  Northampton,  where  I  lectured  in  a  private  fa- 
mily, I  in  the  course  of  conversation  told  some  of  the 
principal  persons  that  I  had  written  the  letter :  and  had 
the  satisfaction  to  hear  them  allow,  that  it  had  indeed 
proved  a  word  in  season^ 

In  the  summer  1783,  while  curate  of  Olney,  my  father 
made  a  visit  to  Shropshire,  in  company  v>'ith  his  highly 
esteemed  friend  the  Rev.  John  Mayor,  Vicar  of  Shaw- 
bury  near  Shrewsbury  ;  and  was  there  confined  with  a 
very  dangerous  illness  of  some  weeks''  continuance.  As 
an  extract  of  a  letter  from  Mr.  Mayor,  written  since  my 
fathers  death,  records  this  event,  so  distressing  at  the 
time  to  his  absent  family,  and  will  also  serve  as  an  intro- 


1781 — 1785.]       A-r  olney.  175 

duction  to  some  letters  which  are  to  follow^  1  shall  here 
insert  it. 

"  My  first  aquaintance  with  your  father  was,  when 
Mr.  Charles  of  Bala  and  I  were  undergraduates,  and 
spent  our  long  vacation  at  Olney,  soon  after  Mr.  New- 
ton's acquaintance  commenced  with  him.  I  paid  my  first 
visit  to  him  the  beginning  of  September,  1782,  when 
greatly  disturbed  with  scruples  about  baptising  the  chil- 
dren of  the  openly  profane.  His  integrity  in  declining 
preferment  some  years  before,  from  scruples  respecting 
the  Athanasian  Creed,  induced  me  to  take  a  journey  of  a 
hundred  miles  to  consult  him,  when  travelling  was  very 
painful  to  me. — Before  I  could  open  my  distress  on  ac- 
count of  baptizing,  1  was  led  by   the    assertions  of  Mr. 

R to  say  somewhat  on  the  mistakes  which  many  in  my 

neighbourhood,   called  Calvinists,  ran  into,   respecting 
points  supposed  to  be  Calvin's  doctrine,  which  were  at- 
tended with  the  worst  effects  on  their  tempers  and  con- 
duct. Sin  was  considered  by  them  as  a  pitiable  infirmity, 
rather  than  as  deserving  wrath  and  condemnation.    The 
character  of  God  was  clouded  ;  and  the  glory  of  redemp- 
tion, and  the  dispensation  we  are  under  by  the  gospel, 
not  acknowledged   to  the  comfort  of  returning  sinners. 
This  led  into  many  discussions   afterwards,  which  made 
your  father  say,  that  he  thought  my  scruples  about  bap- 
tism were  permitted,  to  bring  us  together  for  the  purpose 
I  of  opening  our  minds  to  each  other  on  subjects  which  re- 
j  quired  explanation.     I  had  my  scruples  removed  by  a 
j  single  sentence.     Your  father  said,  '  the  right  of  chil- 
!  dren  to  baptism  is  not  their  parents'  faith,  but  the  profes- 
sion of  it,  so  far  as  to  bring  them  to  the  ordinance.' 
Archbishop  Leighton  was  of  the  same  mind. — Mr.  Scott 
returned  with  me,  after  a  second  visit  to  Olney,  in  the 
aammer  of  1783.     He   was  not  well  soon  after  we  left 


176  RESIDENCE  [  ChAP.  VII. 

Oliiey  ;  and,  before  we  reached  ShifFnal,  he  was  oblidg- 
ed  to  lie  down  at  a  little  ale-house,  while  I  sent  for  a 
chaise,  and  thus  conveyed  him  to  Shiffnalj  and  thence  to 
Shawhiiry.  His  life  was  despaired  of  :  but  it  pleased 
God  to  bless  the  physician's  prescriptions,  and,  after 
almost  a  month's  illness,  he  rapidly  acquired  strength, 
and  preached  for  me  the  last  Sunday  twice,  if  not  three 
times.  I  drove  him  back  in  my  gig  to  Olney,  recover- 
ing strength  every  step  of  his  journey.  He  had  given 
me  directions  to  make  his  will,  and  intended  to  leave  me 
executor,  to  print  such  of  his  papers  as  I  should  think 
advisable  :  a  great  honour,  which  I  bless  God  I  was  re- 
lived from  enjoying  by  the  happy  turn  given  to  the  state 
of  his  health.  I  rejoice  in  the  many  useful  years  he 
since  spent  upon  earth,  to  the  edification  of  his  own,  and, 
I  trust,  of  future  generations.  I  paid  him  several  other 
visits  at  Olney,  in  one  of  which  I  buried,  at  Weston,  an 
infant  child  of  his,  a  few  months  old.  I  missed  hardly 
any  opportunity  of  paying  my  respects  to  him  at  Lon- 
don, and  at  Aston  Sandford.  I  always  highly  respected 
his  understanding,  as  of  the  first  order  :  his  humility  in 
searching  for,  and  readiness  in  receiving  truth  from  such 
as  were  far  inferior  to  him  in  every  thing  :  his  great  sin- 
cerity, prudence,  and  uniform  zeal  for  the  glory  of  God, 
and  the  salvation  of  souls. — He  was  cheerful,  with  gravi- 
ty :  and  never  seemed  to  lose  sight  of  the  great  business 
of  life,  to  glorify  God,  and  edify  his  brethren,  and  all 
about  him." 

At  Olney  my  father  published  a  Thanksgiving  Sermon 
on  the  close  of  the  American  war,  preached  July  29, 
1784  ;  and,  about  nine  months  afterwards,  his  Discourse 
on  Repentance.  Of  the  latter  he  thus  speaks  in  his  nar- 
rative. 

•*  The  Discourse  on  Repentance  was  first  preached  as 


1781—1785.]  AT  OLNEY.  177 

a  sermon  to  a  very  small  congregation  at  Olney,  and  af- 
terwards to  a  very  large  congregation  (irregularly)   at 
Paulerspury,   in  Northamptonshire,  where  it  produced 
permanent  eifects  in  several  instances.     I  then  wrote  and 
enlarged  it  for  the  press,  commonly  with  a  child  on  my 
knee,  or  rocking  the  cradle,  and  my  wife  working  by  me : 
for  a  study  and  a  separate  fire  were  more  than  my  purse 
would  allow.     I  augued  much  usefulness  from  this  work, 
as  did  my  wife  also,  far  more  than  from  the  '  Force  of 
Truth :'  yet,  having  printed  seven  hundred  and   fifty 
copies,  and  given  away  at  least  a   hundred,  I  do  not 
think  the   rest  of  the  impression  would  ever  have  been 
sold,  had  I  continued  at  Olney.      Even  of  the  '  Force  of 
Truth,'  ten  years  elapsed  before  the  first  edition,  con- 
sisting of  a  thousand  copies,  was  disposed  of;    though 
now  nearly  that  number  is  usually  sold  in  a  year.*      But 
several   persons,   who    expressed  much  approbation  of 
that  work,  decidedly  opposed  the  Discourse  on  Repent- 
ance.— So  discouraging  a  beginning  had  my  labours  from 
the  press  !'' 

*  Six  thousand  copies  of  a  cheap  edition  have  been  sold  with- 
in the  last  six  months. 


2 


178  CORRESPONDEKCE.  [ChAP.  Vlll. 


it   lif. 


CHAPTER  Vlll. 


CORRESPONDENCE  DURING  THE  PERIOD  OF  THE  PRE- 
CEDING CHAPTER. 

Such  is  the  narrative  which  my  father  lias  left  of  the 
principal  occiirrences  during  his  residence  at  Olney.  1 
shall  now  present  extracts  of  his  correspondence  which 
may  illustrate  the  course  of  events,  or  the  progress  of  his 
mind,  at  that  period. 

Olney,  it  will  readily  he  conceived  from  facts  which 
have  already  met  the  reader's  eye,  notwithstanding  its 
having  been  favoured  with  the  rcvsidence  and  labours  of 
Mr.  Newton  during  sixteen  years,  was  by  no  means,  when 
my  father  removed  to  it,  a  very  inviting  scene  of  ministe- 
rial service.  Indeed  the  temper  manifested,  when  a  suc- 
cessor was  to  be  appointed  to  Mr.  N.  cannot  fail  to  sur- 
prise and  offend  us ;  and  ought  certainly,  as  my  father 
intimates,  to  be  borne  in  mind  when  his  ministry  there  is 
under  consideration.  Olney,  at  that  period,  was  a  much 
divided  place  :  the  people  were  full  of  religious  notions 
— of  that  "'  knowledge  which  puffeth  up,'' — while  the 
^^  love  that  edifieth''  was  comparatively  rare.  There 
were,  no  doubt,  many  excellent  Christian  characters 
among  them  ;  but,  in  general,  the  religion  of  the  place 
was  far  from  being  of  a  suflicicntly  practical  character  : 
and  it  cannot  be  doubted,  that  the  exquisite  candour  and 
tenderness  of  Mr.  N's.   temper  had  failed  of  adequately 


1779 1785.]     CORRESPONDENCE.  179 

counteracting  the  exist' ng  tendency  of  things.  Many 
indeed  were  nursed  up  to  a  morbid  delicacy  of  feeling, 
which  could  not  bear  the  faithful  application  of  scriptural 
admonitions,  even  by  his  gentle  hand,  without  expostula- 
tion and  complaint. 

There  is  the  less  need  to  scruple  this  statement,  be- 
cause I  trust,  and  it  was  my  father's  hope  and  belief, 
that  the  religious  state  of  Olney  is  materially  amended  ; 
and  that  that  town,  in  some  degree,  exhibits  the  rare  ex- 
ample of  a  Christian  community  considerably  recovered 
from  a  corrupt  state,  contracted  by  the  abuse  of  the  best 
principles. — The  statement  also  seems  due  to  the  subject 
of  these  memoirs,  and  it  will  receive  confirmation  from 
what  is  now  to  follow. 

Of  ray  father's  fir^t  proposed  removal  to  Olney,  I  find 
only  the  following  brief  notice,  in  a  letter  to  his  youngest 
sister,  dated  Weston,  Sept.  28,  1779. — ''  I  have  some 
thoughts  of  removing  from  this  place  to  Olney.  It  will 
not  be  a  very  important  advantage  in  worldly  things  ; 
but  it  will  bring  an  additional  care  upon  me  of  near  two 
thousand  souls.     But  the  Lord  will  provide." 

In  less  than  a  month  after  this,  the  b\irst  of  opposition 
had  taken  place  at  Olney,  and  had  produced  its  effect  in 
disconcerting  Mr.  Newton's  plan,  as  appears  from  a  let- 
ter of  his  to  my  father,  of  the  19th  of  October,  1779. 
He  says,  "  I  am  grieved  as  often  as  I  think  of  the  strange 
hasty  spirit  that  discovered  itself  among  my  poor  people, 
and  which  I  fear  has  deprived  them  of  the  comfort  and 
benefit  I  am  persuaded  they  would  have  received  from 

your  ministry .1  could  not  foresee  what  happened : 

my  disappointment  and  concern  have  been  great,  but  I 
cannot  help  it."  The  mortification  of  this  excellent  man 
was  not  yet,  however,  at  its  height ;  for  the  person 
whom  his  people  actually  pitched  upon  to  succeed  him 


180  CORRESPONDENCE.  [ChAP.  VIII. 

was  not  yet  in  view,  or  at  least  was  not  known  to  him  : 
for  he  forms  other  plans  for  them. — He  concludes  his 
letter  in  that  strain  of  pious  confidence  in  God  which  so 
much  distinguished  him.  ^^  What  a  satisfaction  it  is  to 
knowj  that  all  things  are  at  the  Lord's  disposal,  and  under 
his  management ;  and  that,  in  a  way  heyond  our  appre- 
hension, he  can  and  will  over  rule  them  for  good.  I  can 
hardly  now  conjecture  how  I  once  lived,  when  I  lived 
without  God  in  the  world.  I  was  then  in  the  situation  of  a 
ship  at  sea,  exposed  to  storms,  surrounded  with  rocks  and 
quicksands,  and  without  either  pilot,  rudder,  or  compass. 
Yet  I  was  so  stupid  that  I  apprehended  no  danger.  But 
surely,  with  the  views  I  now  have  of  human  life,  I  should 
be  quite  miserable,  should  soon  sink  under  the  pressure 
of  care  and  anxiety,  if  I  were  not  invited,  and  in  some 
measure  enabled,  to  commit  my  ways  and  concerns  to  the 
Lord,  who  has  promised  to  care  for  me. — I  rejoice  in 
the  assurance,  that  he  is  and  will  hei/oiir  guard  and  com- 
forter. My  heart  wishes  you  much  peace  and  great  suc- 
cess in  his  service.  He  is  a  good  master,  and  his  service, 
though  not  exempt  from  trials,  is  honourable  and  pleas- 
ant. So  you  find  it :  may  you  go  on  from  strength  to 
strength  !" 

Another  letter  from  the  same  hand,  dated  July  27, 
1780,  implies  a  return  in  some  of  the  people  of  Olney  to 
a  better  mind.  ''  I  am  glad  you  have  opportunity  of 
preaching  sometimes  at  Olney.  I  hear  more  and  more 
from  thence  of  the  concern  many  feel  for  the  share  they 
had  in  preventing  your  living  among  them.  I  hope  the 
Lord  will  sanctify  the  present  growing  inconveniences^ 
they  complain  of,  to  humble  and  prove  them,  to  shew 
them  what  is  in  their  hearts,  and  to  prepare  them  for  a 
due  improvement  of  a  better  supply  hereafter." 

This  letter  also  contains  the  first  allusion  that  I  find 


1779 1785.]     CORRESPONDENCE.  181 

to  my  father's  visits  to  Leicester^  where  he  contracted  an 
intimate  friendship  with  the  late  Rev.  Thomas  Robinson, 
and  which  town  afterwards  became  to  him  a  favourite 
place  of  resort.  "  I  have  lately  had  a  visit^'^  Mr.  N. 
says^  "  from  Mr.  Ludlam,  who  brought  me  a  letter  from 
Mr.  Robinson  :  so  that  I  have  heard  of  your  visit  to  Lei- 
cester from  others,  as  well  as  from  yourself.  I  trust  the 
Lord  whom  you  serve  is  and  will  be  with  you,  statedly 
and  occasionally,  abroad  and  at  home.^' 

I  persuade  myself  that  I  shall  meet  with  ready  indul- 
gence for  introducing  still  further  extracts  from  the  let- 
ters of  this  justly  beloved  character,  whose  epistolary  ex- 
cellence is  also  generally  acknowledged.  February  17, 
1781,  after  my  father  had  accepted  the  curacy  of  Olney, 
Mr.  N.  writes  "  Had  the  curacy  of  Ravenstone  been  at 

my  disposal^  I  should  not  have  given  it  to  Mr.  . 

But  such  is  the  Lord's  pleasure,  and  therefore  it  must  be 
right.     We  agreed  that  Mr. had  done''  (occasion- 
ed )  "  some  good  at  Olney.      We   shall  find    he    will 
be  useful  in  the  same  way  at  Ravenstone.  .  .  .  We  are 
short-sighted,  but  the  Lord  sees  things  in  all  their  conse- 
quences, and  has  views  worthy  of  his  wisdom,  of  which 
we  are  not  aware.     How  often  should  we  spoil   his  per- 
fect plan  were  we  able  :  but  it  is  our  mercy,  no  less  than 
his  right,  that  he  will  do  all  his  pleasure.     Stand  still 
and  wait,  and  you  shall  at  length  admire  the  propriety  of 
his  management  in  all  things.     What  can  we  desire  bet- 
ter than  an  infallible  guidance?  ...  In  my  Letters  to  a 
Nobleman  you  have  descriptions  of  my  heart's  feelings 
and  exercises,  to  which  I  can  add  little  new.    I  am  kept, 
but  surely  it  is  by  the  power  of  God,   ^^ovgovfju^oi  (1  Pet.  i. 
3.)  is  an  emphatical  word :  it  well  expresses  our  situation. 
We  are  like  a  besieged  city  :  the  gates  of  hell,  the  powers 
of  darkness,  encompass  us  on  every  side ;   but  we  are 


182  CORRESPONDENCE.  [CuAP.  VIII. 

guarded,  s;arriso7ied  by  the  power  of  God.  The  name 
of  tJie  besieged  city  is,  The  Lor-d  is  there.  Our  defence 
and  our  supplies  are  from  on  high,  and  therefore  cannot 
be  intercepted.  Our  enemies  may,  they  will  fight,  but 
they  cannot  prevail.  The  captain  of  our  salvation  knows 
all  their  plots,  despises  all  their  strength,  can  disconcert 
and  discomfit  them,  and,  whenever  he  pleases,  compel 
them  to  raise  the  siege  in  a  moment.  We  have  a  good 
promise,  Isa.  xxviii.  5,   6.     So  likewise  the  whole  of 

Psalm  xlvi I  am  daily  with  you  in  spirit :  your 

comfort  and  your  success  are  daily  near  my  heart,  and  I 
am  doubly  interested  in  you,  as  we  are  both  connected 
with  Olney.  .  .  The  season  of  the  year,  as  well  as  more 
important  reasons,  puts  Horace's  words  often  into  my 
mouth,  0  rus,  quando  te  aspiciam  ?  It  must  not  be  yet, 
but  I  hope  the  day  will  come,  when  we  shall  resume  our 
walks,  and  revisit  our  favourite  trees.'" 

The  following  is  characteristic  of  the  writer,  and  at 
the  same  time  conveys  the  information,  which  my  father's 
narrative  has  not  given,  that,  on  his  resignation  of  the 
curacy  of  Ravenstone,  unsuccessful  attempts  were  made 
to  deprive  him  of  that  of  Weston  also. 

''  March  31,  1781.  My  dear  friend,  I  had  written 
to  you  and  my  letter  was  going  off,  when  your's  came, 
and  made  mine  unnecessary,  by  what  you  yourself  said  of 
the  subjects  I  had  in  view.  I  then  thought  I  would  wait 
till  1  could  congratidate  you  and  Mrs.  Scott  and  myself 
on  your  removal  to  Olney,  which  I  hope  I  may  now  do. 
May  the  good,  the  great  Shepherd  dwell  with  you,  (be 
your  s;lory  and  defence)  in  your  heart,  house,  and  assem- 
blies !  I  have  been  m\ich  with  you  in  spirit  of  late.  My 
love  to  you,  if  you  were  in  another  place,  and  to  the  peo- 
ple of  Olney,  if  they  had  another  minister,  would  singly 
excite  my  attention  and  best  wishes  :  at  present  these 
motives  are  united,  and  strengthen  each  other. 


1779 1785.]     CORRESPONDENCE.  183 

^^  Methinks  I  see  you  sitting  in  my  old  corner  in  the 
study. — I  will  warn  you  of  one  thing.  That  room  (do 
not  startj)  used  to  be  haunted.  I  cannot  say  I  ever  saw 
or  heard  any  thing  with  my  bodily  organs,  but  I  have 
been  sure  there  were  evil  spirits  init>  and  very  near  me  : 
A  spirit  of  folly,  a  spirit  of  indolence,  a  spirit  of  unbelief, 
and  many  others — 'indeed  tlieir  name  is  Legion,  But 
why  should  I  say  they  are  in  your  study,  when  they  fol- 
lowed me  to  London,  and  still  pester  me  here  ?  I  shall 
be  glad,  however,  if  your  house  be  fairly  rid  of  them. 
I  am  sure  they  were  there  once.  I  hope,  likewise,  you 
will  have  better  company  when  you  are  there  alone,  more 
frequently  than  I  had.  I  hope  the  Lord  has  sometimes 
favoured  it  with  his  gracious  presence.  I  hope,  if  the 
walls  have  been  witnesses  of  my  complaints  and  shame, 
they  have  been  likewise  to  my  attempts  to  praise  him, 
and  to  many  prayers  which  I  have  oifered  up  for  my  suc- 
cessor, long  before  I  knew  who  he  was  to  be.  May  all, 
and  more  than  all  that  I  ever  besought  him  for  myself,  be 
vouchsafed  to  you,  and  the  blessings  I  have  entreated  for 
the  people  be  afforded  to  them  under  your  ministry  ! 

"  I  understand  the  designs  of  those  who  would  have 
deprived  you  of  Weston  have  been  defeated.  It  is  there- 
fore the  Lord's  pleasure  you  should  keep  it  for  the  pre- 
sent. In  this  view  I  ought  to  be,  and  am  glad  of  it,  as  I 
know  it  was  much  upon  your  heart.  Yet,  had  he  ap- 
pointed otherwise,  I  should  not  have  been  so  sorry,  as  you 
would  probably  have  been  at  the  first.  However  expe- 
dient and  apparently  necessary  your  serving  Weston  may 
seem,  it  may,  perhaps,  be  the  chief  cause  of  inconvenience 
to  you  at  Olney.  When  you  are  absent  from  home,  the 
people  will  be  under  a  continual  temptation  of  mixing 
with  those,  who  will  do  all  in  their  power  to  prejudice 
them  against  you,   at  least  against  the  chutrch.     Such  a 


iH-l  CORRESPONDENCE.  [ChAP.  VIII. 

spirit  I  know  is  very  prevalent.  .  .  .  It  is  possible  like- 
wise that  the  Weston  people  may  not  always  be  content 
with  one  service  a  day.  But  I  know  your  views  and  mo- 
tives are  such  as  the  Lord  will  bless.  To  day  is  our's  : 
what  is  matter  of  future  duty,  He  will  make  known 
in  his  time.  I  cannot  doubt  but  your  labours  at  Olney 
will  be  welcome  and  acceptable  to  the  best  of  his  peo- 
ple, and  I  cannot  but  hope  He  will  raise  you  up  a  new 
people  there,  and  cause  you  to  rejoice  in  some  over  whom 
I  have  often  mourned.  You  desired  to  follow  his  lead- 
ing, and  I  cannot  believe  he  would  have  led  you  where 
you  are,  if  he  had  not  something  important  for  you  to  do. 
Be  of  good  courage,  wait  patiently  his  leisure,  and  he  will 
give  you  the  desire  of  your  heart. 

^'  My  mouth  waters  to  come  to  you  :  but  it  cannot  be 
till  some  time  (I  know  not  how  long)  after  Easter.  .  .  But 
all  these  things  are  in  the  Lord's  hand.  When  I  see  the 
cloud  taken  up  from  the  tabernacle,  I  shall  be  glad  to  move  ; 
otherwise  I  dare  not.  I  am  so  blind  to  consequences  that 
I  tremble  at  the  thoughts  of  forming  a  plan  for  myself. — 
Your  prayers  will  be  among  the  means  to  help  me  for- 
ward. ...  A  thousand  ifs  may  be  suggested,  but  they 
are  all  in  the  Loitl's  hand;  and  therefore,  if\t  be  his  will 
that  I  should  visit  you,  nothing  shall  prevent  it.  If  he 
sees  it  not  expedient  or  proper,  he  will  not  send  an  angel 
to  tell  me  so,  but  he  will  tell  me  by  his  providence.  If 
he  wills  me  to  stay  here,  why  should  I  wish  to  be  some- 
where else  ?  If  we  were  not  prone  to  prefer  our  own  will 
to  his,  we  should  never  complain  of  a  disappointment. 
This  is  the  lesson  I  want  to  learn.  I  am  so  much  at  teach- 
ing it  to  others,  that  it  might  be  supposed  I  had  acquired 
it  myself.  But  the  Lord  and  my  own  heart  know  how 
far  I  am  from  having  attained. 

^'  My  love  to  your  new  people  :  I  have  not  room  to 


1779 1785. J  CORRESPONDENCE.  185 

particularize  namesj  but  I  love  them  all.     Believe  me. 

your  affectionate  friend, 

John  Newton." 

I  have  one  more  letter  of  Mr.  Newton's  to  insert,  and 
I  shall  introduce  it  here,  though  rather  by  anticipation. 
It  is  dated  March  15,  1782.  I  think  no  reader  would 
wish  it  omitted. 

^^This  morning  I  have  hope  of  indulging  myself  in 
half  an  hour^s  pen-chat,  with  my  dear  friend  Mr.  Scott ; 
a  pleasure  I  could  not  have  sooner,  though  the  receipt  of 
your's  made  me  desirous  of  writing.  I  thought  I  had  re- 
served time  last  Saturday,  but  unexpected  company  came 
in  and  ran  away  with  it :  and  this  is  often  the  case. 

"  I  should  have  liked  to  have  been  with  you  at  Leices- 
ter. I  love  the  place,  the  sheep  and  the  shepherd  of 
that  fold,  and  I  love  the  friends  and  ministers  you  met 
there.  I  am  glad  you  had  pleasure  and  profit  in  your 
excursion.  I  can  guess  that  the  contrast  you  felt  on  your 
return  was  painful :  for  I  likewise  have  been  at  Olney, 
and  have  preached  once  and  again,  when  the  congregation 
has  reminded  me  of  the  scattered  ships*  of  ^neas  which 
survived  the  storm, 

— rari  nantes  in  gurgite  vasto. 

I  likewise  have  preached  at  Leicester  and  Olney  in  the 
same  week,  and  been  conscious  of  the  difference  both  in 
numbers  and  attention.  I  can  assure  you  that,  though  I 
put  the  best  face  upon  things,  and  was  upon  the  whole 
comfortable,  yet  my  chief  comfort  in  my  situation  there 
latterly,  sprang  from  a  persuasion  that  I  was  in  the  post 
the  Lord  had  assigned  me  ;  that  he  knew  I  was  there, 
and  why  I  was  there  ;  that,  as  a  centinel,  it  would  be 
unsoldierly  to  indulge  a  wish  of  being  relieved  sooner  than 

*  The  classical  reader  will  excuse  a  slight  inaccuracy  here. 

2  A 


186  CORRESPONDENCE.  [ChAP.  VIII. 

my  commander  appointed.  I  tlionght,  so  fiir  as  my  con- 
cern was  dictated  by  a  regard  to  the  honour  of  the  gos- 
pel and  the  good  of  sou  Is,  it  was  right ;  but  it  was  the 
smallest  part  wliieh  I  durst  assign  simply  to  that  cause  ; 
and  that  all  the  uneasy  feelings  of  Mr.  Self,  on  his  own 
account,  were  not  of  that  importance  which  he  pretended. 
There  were  a  few  who  loved  me  for  the  Lord's  sake,  and 
who,  I  could  perceive,  were  fed  and  brought  forward  by 
my  ministry  ;  and,  thougli  they  were  but  few,  I  durst  not 
say  that  their  edification  and  affection  were  not  an  over- 
recompense  for  all  the  disagreeables. — Such  considera- 
tions as  these  are  present  with  you  likewise.  The  Lord 
will  support  you  and  comfort  you^  and  can,  whenever  he 
pleases,  either  make  your  service  more  pleasant  at  Olney, 
or  assign  you  a  more  comfortable  situation  elsewhere.  I 
never  had  one  serious  thought  of  a  removal,  till  the  even- 
ing I  received  Mr.  Thornton's  offer  of  St.  Mary  Wool- 
noth.  Even  then,  when  it  came  to  the  point,  it  cost  me 
something  to  part  with  them  :  and  had  the  proposal  been 
made  a  year  or  two  sooner,  I  should  have  found  more 
diiTiculty  in  accepting  it.  His  hour  and  His  methods  are 
best,  and  it  is  good  to  wait  for  him  and  upon  him  ;  for 
none  who  so  wait  shall  be  disappointed.  When  I  first 
went  to  Olney,  and  for  a  good  while  afterwards,  I  had  no 
more  reason  to  expect  such  a  post  as  I  am  now  in,  than  I 
liave  now  to  expect  a  removal  to  Lambeth.  But  the  Lord 
never  is  at  a  loss  for  means  to  effect  his  own  purposes. 
He  can  provide  friends,  open  doors,  remove  mountains, 
and  bring  the  most  unlikely  things  to  pass.  .  .  And,  when 
we  have  finished  our  course,  if  he  is  pleased  to  accept  us, 
it  will  make  no  difference  whether  we  die  curates,  or 
rectors,  or  bisliops. 

^'  One  thing  is  needful  :   but  this  one  thing  includes 
many,  and  may  be  considered  in  various  respects.     The 


1779 1785.]     CORRESPONDENCE  187 

one  thing  for  a  sinner  is  to  know  Jesus  and  his  salvation. 
The  one  thing  for  a  believer  is  to  live  to  his  will,  and  to 
make  him  his  all ;  to  admire,  contemplate,  resemble,  and 
serve  him.     A  believer  is  a  child  of  God  ;  a  minister  is, 
in  an  especial  and  appropriate  sense,  a  servant,  though  a 
child  likewise.     The  one  thing  for  a  servant,  or  a  stew- 
ard in  the  house  of  God  is  to  be  faithful ;  that  is,  to  be 
simply  and  without  reserve,  or  any  allowed  interfering 
motive,  devoted  and  resigned  to  his  Vvill ;  to  have  no  plan^ 
connexion,  prospect,  or  interest,  but  under  his  direction, 
and  in  an  immediate  and  clear  subserviency  to  his  interest. 
Happy  the  man  who  is  brought  to  this  point !  How  ho- 
nourable, how  safe  his  state  !   He  is  engaged  in  a  league 
offensive  and  defensive  with  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth : 
and,  in  the  midst  of  changes  and  exercises  which  can  but 
affect  the  surface,  if  I  may  so  speak,  he  has  an  abiding 
peace  in  the  bottom  of  his  soul,  well  knowing  whose  he 
is,  and  whom  he  serves. 

"  Indeed,  my  friend,  I  see,  or  think  I  see,  such  inte- 
rested views,  such  height  of  spirit,  such  obvious  blem- 
ishes, in  some,  who,  on  account  of  gifts  and  abilities,  are 
eminent  in  the  church  of  God,  as  are  truly  lamentable. 
I  adore  the  mercy  of  the  Lord  who  has  preserved  you 
and  me,  and  a  few  men  whom  I  love,  from  those  snares 
and  temptations,  by  which  some,  as  good  and  wise  as 
ourselves,  have  been  entangled  and  hurt.  If  1  must  blame, 
I  would  do  it  with  gentleness,  well  knowing  that  had  I 
been  left  to  myself,  in  similar  circum.stances,  I  should  not 
have  acted  better.  Ah  !  deceitful  sin — deceitful  world 
•—deceitful  heart!  How  can  we  stand  an  hour  against 
such  a  combination,  unless  upheld  by  the  arm  that  upholds 
the  heaven  and  the  earth.  .  .  . 

"  I  can  say  nothing  about  coming  to  Olney,  but  that  I 
am  willing  if  the  Lord  please.      If  I  do,  it  must  be  soon 


l,S8  CORRESPONDENCE.  [ChAP.  Vlll- 

after  Whitsunday  :  a  long  while  to  look  forward  to!  1 
eannot  move  withont  a  supply,  of  which  1  have  no  pres- 
ent prospect :  hut  he  can  provide,  if  he  would  have  mc 
go.  With  him  1  would  leave  all.  It  is  pleasant,  but  not 
necessary  to  see  each  other.  Oh!  may  we  see  him.  and 
rejoice  in  him  daily  ;  and.  as  to  all  the  rest,  JVot  my  will, 
hut  thine  he  done.  So  I  wish  to  say. — With  love  to 
Mrs.  Scott  from   us  bothj   I    remain  your  affectionate 

friend, 

John  Newton.'^ 

I  now  turn  to  my  father's  own  letters.  The  following, 
addressed  to  my  mother's  brother-in-law,  to  his  corres- 
pondence with  whom  w^e  have  before  adverted,  will  shew 
his  motives  for  undertaking  the  cure  of  Olney,  and  his 
view  of  the  service  in  which  he  was  engaging.  It  is  da- 
ted Weston,  February  15,  1781. 

"  I  have  undertaken  the  curacy  of  Olney  along   with 
Weston,   leaving  Kavenstone  :    which  will    be  attended 
with  my  removal  to  Olney  at  Lady-day,  and  a  considera- 
ble consequent  expence   in   furniture,  &c.     But,  on  the 
other  hand,  it  will  I  apprehend  be  some  increase  of  in- 
come, and  more  of  a  settlement  than  my  present  situation ; 
as  I  have  good  reason  to  believe  I  shall  be  presented  to 
the  living,  when    the   incumbent  dies.     At   present  the 
curacy,  taking  one  thing  with  another,  is  about  equal  to 
Ravenstone,  or  rather  preferable  ;  and  there  have  been 
for  many  years  subscriptions  for  a  lecture,  which  have 
amounted  to  40/.  or  better,  but  may  pro])ably  be  20/.  or 
30/.     The  living  is  but  small,  70/.  per  annum,  and  the 
house  ;  and  the  inciunbent  is  very  old.      I  mention  these 
things  because,  as  relations,  you  will   probably   wish  to 
hear  of  them  :   otherwise,  they  are  to  mc  very  unimpor- 
tant.    I  have  this  day  finished  my  thirty-fourth   year. 
I  lived  without  God  in  the  world  for  nearly  twenty-eight : 


1779 — 1785. J  correspond'ekce.  189 

then  he  did  not  starve  me,  nay,  he  provided  well  for  me, 
though  I  knew  him  not,  asked  him  not,  thanked  him  not. 
I  have  now  in  some  measure  trusted,  and  poorly  served 
him  the  other  six  years,  or  nearly,  and  he  has  not  failed 
me.  Sometimes  he  has  proved  my  faith,  and  made  me 
ready  to  question  whether  he  would  provide  for  me  or 
not,  at  least  in  that  plentiful  manner  I  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  ;  but  he  has  always  in  the  end  made  me  ashamed 
of  my  suspicions. — Mercy  and  goodness  have  folloivrd 
me  all  the  days  of  my  life^  and  the  same  Jehovah  is  still 
my  Shepherd ;  therefore  I  shall  not  ivant.  I  do  not 
therefore  embrace  this  offer,  as  if  I  were  either  dissatis- 
fied, or  distrustful,  or  avaricious.  I  trust  the  Lord 
knows  these  are  not  my  motives.  The  advance  of  income 
(if  it  be  any,)  is  not  at  all  a  leading  object  with  me  ;  but, 
the  situation  being  offered,  I  verily  judged  it,  upon  the 
most  deliberate  consideration,  \  trust  in  the  spirit  of 
prayer,  my  bounden  duty  to  accept  it ;  because  the  vicar 
of  Ravenstone's  life  is  very  precarious,  and  his  death 
would  probably  have  been  followed  with  my  removal  to 
a  greater  distance  from  the  place  of  my  present  abode, 
and  from  the  people  to  whom  I  have  been  made  useful, 
and  whom  I  dearly  love  ;  who  will  now  be  near,  within 
reach  of  me,  and  I  of  them  :  because  I  hope  the  Lord 
hath  some  good  work  to  do  by  me  at  Olney  :  and  because 
many  good  people  there  have  been  this  last  year  as  sheep 
not  having  a  shepherd.  At  the  same  time  I  am  aw^are 
that  I  am  about  to  be  plunged  into  the  midst  of  difficul- 
ties and  trials,  and  shall  have  to  regret  the  loss  of  many 
of  my  present  comforts  ;  that  I  shall  need  vastly  more 
wisdom,  patience,  and  meekness,  than  I  have  hitherto  at- 
tained to.  But  he  who  sends  me  will  support  me,  sup- 
ply me,  stand  by  me,  and  carry  me  through.  And  in- 
deed I  am  not  to  expect  that  the  Lord  Jesus  has  enlisted 


190  (JORRESPOXDENCE.  [ClIAP.  VIU. 

irn;  into  liis  army,  and  commissioned  me  as  an  ofticer,  and 
given  me  a  complete  suit  oi' armour,  and  directions,  and 
encouragement  for  the  fight,  and  assurance  of  victory, 
for  notliing.  He  bids  me  endure  hardships ,  fii^ht  the 
good  fight,  carry  war  into  Satan's  dominion,  down  with 
his  strong  holds,  spoil  his  goods  ;  and  resistance,  and 
conflict,  and  wrestlings,  I  must  expect.  Now  for  the 
fight,  by  and  by  the  victory,  and  then  the  conquerors 
rest.  He  has,  I  trust,  also  enlisted  you  :  be  not  discou- 
raged at  the  number  and  rage  of  your  enemies.  Your 
captain  leads  you  forth  '  to  conquest  and  a  crown.'  He 
will  cover  your  head  in  the  day  of  battle,  heal  all  your 
wounds,  renew  your  strength,  and  at  last  crown  you  more 
than  conqueror. 

"  Indeed  Olney  is,  I  apprehend,  as  difHcult  a  charge 
for  a  minister  as  can  well  be  imagined,  and  I  greatly  feel 
my  insufficiency  ;  but  if  I  look  to  Jesus  I  cannot  be  dis- 
couraged :  his  strength  shall  be  perfected  in  my  weak- 
ness^ and  his  wisdom  in  my  foolishness.  I  must,  howe- 
ver, enjoin  you  to  pray  for  me  :  I  have  prayed  for  you 
long  and  often,  and  I  trust  the  Lord  has  heard,  and  taught 
you  to  pray  ;  now  pay  me  in  kind.  I  need  this  return, 
and  shall  much  value  it. 

"  Mr. ,  (the  last  minister  of  Olney)  having  set 

Olney  in  a  flame  by  his  contentious  behaviour,  is  to  suc- 
ceed me  at  Ravenstone,  which  is  a  sensible  aflliction  to  me; 
but  the  Lord  knows  better  than  I  do,  and  there  I  leave 
it.  It  will  probably  prevent  my  future  usefulness  at  Ra- 
venstone. This  Satan  doubtless  intends,  but  1  hope  the 
Lord  will  turn  his  counsel  into  fooUshncss.^' 

To  the  same  person  he  wrote  July  4th  following  : 
"  You  desire  me  to  inform  you  how  I  like  Olney  :  but  it 
is  impossible.  I  trust  the  Lord  is  with  me,  and  I  love 
his  presence,  and  the  liglit  of  his  countenance,  which  en- 


1779 1785.]     CORRESPONDENCE.  191 

tirely  reconciles  me  to  the  numerous  disagreeables  that 
otherwise  I  do  and  must  expect  to  encounter.     I  am  sat- 
isfied that  the    Lord  will  not  leave  me  to  be  needlessly 
discouraged  ;  and,  further,  that  I  shall  learn  many  a  pro- 
fitable lesson  from  the  things  I  meet  with  :  and,  if  I  ac- 
quire   humility,    meekness,  patience,  prudence,  experi- 
ence in  this  school,  though  it  be  not  pleasing  to  the  flesh, 
the  spirit  will  rejoice. — As    to  the    people,    they  are 
pretty    much    as  I   expected :     rather    more    divided. 
But  I  cannot  tell  how  things  will  issue.     I  have    taken 
a  farm,  which  is  a  good  deal  out  of  heart :  I  am  break- 
ing up    the  fallow    ground,    ploughing,    and    harrow- 
ing, and  sowing  :  but   what  sort  of  a  crop  I  shall  have, 
harvest-time  will  best  shew.      Only  I  am  sure  /  shall 
reap  in  due  season   if  I  faint  not.     I  do  not,  however, 
repent  coming.'' 

Indications  have  already  appeared  of  the  spiritual  hap- 
piness which  my  father  enjoyed  after  the  settlement  of 
his  religious  views.  Several  passages  also  in  the  Force  of 
Truth,  and  in  the  Discourse  on  Repentance,  demonstrate 
the  same  state  of  mind.  This  continued  for  some  years, 
but  was  afterwards  succeeded,  as  by  scenes  of  greater  ef- 
fort, so  also  by  more  internal  conflict.  He  always  looked 
back  upon  the  seven  years  which  followed  his  first  cordial 
reception  of  scriptural  truth,  as  those  of  greatest  personal 
enjoyment.  The  following  passages  of  letters  to  his 
younger  sister,  Mrs.  Ford,  may  be  added  to  those  which 
contain  intimations  of  this  kind ;  and  they,  at  the  same  time, 
contiue  the  history  of  his  intercourse  with  this  branch  of 
his  family. 

"  January  29,  1782.  To  see  you  as  happy  in  that 
peace  of  God^  which  passeth  understanding,  and 
which,  through  Jesus  Christ,  keepeth  the  heart  and  mind, 
«s  I  feel  myself,  is  my  ardent  wish,  and  frequent,  fervent 


W2 


CORRESPONDENCE.  [ClIAP.  VIII. 


])rayer.  ...  On  Mondays,  Wednesdays,  and  Saturdays, 
I  am  at  your  service  ;  but  I  preach  on  the  other  evenings. 
.  .  .  You  may  likewise  depend  upon  it,  tliat  I  will  not 
make  your  continuance  at  Olney  disagreeable  by  religious 
disputes  :  for  the  Lord  has  almost  spoiled  me  for  a  dispu- 
tant'. Waiting  and  praying  are  the  weapons  of  my  war- 
fare, vvliich  I  trust  will  in  due  time  \yro\t  mighty,  through 
God,  for  the  pulling  down  of  all  stro7ig  holds,  which  hin- 
der Christ's  entering  into,  U7id  dwelling  in  your  heart 
by  failh,  and  binnging  every  thought  into  captivity  to 
obedience  to  himself.  ....  One  expression  in  your  let- 
ter encourages  me  to  hope  that  we  shall,  before  many 
more  years  have  elapsed,  be  like-minded  :  namely,  where 
you  seem  to  entertain  a  doubt  of  your  being  right,  and  do 
offer  a  prayer  to  God  to  set  you  right.  Thus  I  began  : 
in  this  I  persevered,  and  do  persevere,  and  have  no  more 
doubt,  that  it  is  God  who  taught  me  what  I  now  believe 
and  preach,  as  to  the  great  outlines,  than  I  have  that  God 
is  faithful  and  hears  prayer.  .  .  .  You  wonder  at  my 
condemning  you  unheard,  and  think  I  have  a  worse  opi- 
nion of  you  than  you  deserve.  1  will  promise  you  I 
have  not  so  bad  an  opinion  of  you  as  I  have  of  myself. 
But  the  Bible  condemns  us  all,  moral  and  immoral,  great 
sinners  and  little  sinners,  (if  there  be  such  a  thing:)  that 
every  mouth  may  be  stopped,  Rom.  iii.  19,  and  follow- 
ing. Let  me  beg  of  you  to  read  without  a  comment,  to 
meditate  upon,  and  pray  over  this  scripture,  especially 
that  humbling  text,  For  there  is  no  difference,  for  all 
have  sinned  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God.  No 
difference  :  all  are  guilty,  all  condemned  malefactors  : 
all  must  be  saved  in  a  way  of  grace,  by  fjiith,  through 
Christ.*' 

^»  June  25, 1782.  Two  things  have  concurred  together 
to   render  it  not  easv  for  nic  to  write,  namely,  many  en- 


1779 1785.]  CORRESPONDENCE.      '  193 

gagements  and  much  indisposition.  ...  If  the  Lord  he 
pleased  to  give  us,  (for  he  is  the  alone  giver,)  in  the  way 
of  honest  industry  in  some  lawful  calling,  the  necessaries 
and  ordinary  conveniences  of  life,  just  abov^e  the  pinch- 
ings  of  poverty,  and  beneath  the  numberless  temptations 
of  affluence,  we  are  then  in  the  most  favourable  station 
Ibr  real  happiness,  so  far  as  attainable  in  this  world,  that 
we  can  be  ;   and  we  want  nothing  more  but  a  contented 
mind  :  such  a  contented  mind  as  springs  from  a  concious- 
uess,  that  of  all  the  numberless  blessings  we  enjoy  we  de- 
serve not  one,  having  forfeited  all,  and  our  souls  too  by 
sin  ;  from  a  consideration  of  the  poverty,  and  afflictions  of 
the  Son  of  God,  endured  voluntarily  for  us  ;  from  faith  in 
him,  a  scriptural  hope  that  ^our  sins  are  pardoned,  and 
that  we  are  in  a  state  of  acceptance  with  God  ;  from  peace 
of  conscience,  peace  with  God,  submission  to  him,  reliance 
on  him,  and  realizing  views  of  his  unerring  wisdom,  al- 
mighty power,  and  faithfulness,  engaged,  through  Jesus, 
to  7nake  all  ivork  for  our  good  ;  together  with  the  sweets 
of  retired  communion  with  him  in  the  rarely  frequented 
walks  of  fervent  prayer  and  meditation.     This  is  all  that 
is  wanted  to  make  us  satisfied,  cheerful,  and  comfortable  ; 
rejoicing  in  hope  of  complete  happiness  in  a  better  world. 
All  beside,  that  our  restless  minds   (restless  unless  and 
until  they  find  rest  in  God,)  can  crave,  could  add  nothing 
to  us.  .  .  .  Riches,   pleasures,  diversions,  the  pomp  and 
pride  of  life,  are  not  only  empty  but  ruinous — vanity  and 
vexation.     The  Lord  grant  that  we  may  esteem  them 
such,  and  despise  them.     True  happiness  consists  in  be- 
ing like  God,  loving  him,   and  being  beloved  of  him. 
All  the  rest  is  but  a  poor  attempt  of  miserable  man  to  for- 
get his  misery,  and  to  find  a  happiness  independent  of  the 
fountain  of  happiness  :  as  if  men,  being  deprived  of  the 
light  and  heat  of  the  sun,  should  attempt  to  supply  the  v 

2B 


194  COURESPONUENCK.  [CllAP.    VIll. 

reparable  loss  by  fires  and  tapers.  .  .  .  But  believe  mc, 
dear  sister,  it  is  no  small  matter  to  be  such  a  Christian  :  to 
deny  ourselves,  renounce  the  world,  crucify  the  flesh,  and 
resist  the  devil,  though  pleasant  to  him  that  has  once  got 
into  the  scriptural  method,  is  too  great  a  work  for  the  most 
even  of  y)rofessors  :  most  put  up  with  either  a  round  of  de- 
votions, in  a  formal  way,  or  a  set  of  notions.  But,  though 
there  is  much  diligence  and  self-denial  necessary,  and  the 
friendship  of  the  world,  and  conformity  to  it,  must  be  re- 
nounced ;  yet  the  present  comforts  of  religion  (I  speak 
from  sweet  experience,)  amply  and  richly  repay  it.  May 
you  and  your's  experience  the  same  !' 

In  another  letter,  about  a  year  afterwards,  addressed  to 
a  young  woman  remotely  connected  with  him  by  marriage, 
w^ho  had  spent  some  time  in  his  family  at  Weston,  and  who 
will  hereafter  be  repeatedly  noticed  as  his  correspon- 
dent in  Northumberland,  he  gives  counsel  and  encourage- 
ment on  the  subject  to  which  the  preceding  letter  leads 
our  thoughts, — the  treatment  of  relations  not  yet  brought 
to  that  religious  state  of  mind  which  we  could  wish.  At 
the  same  time  we  may  trace  in  it  the  germ  of  that  spirit  of 
intercessory  prayer,  which  so  much  distinguished  the 
writer  to  the  end  of  his  days. 

"  We  seldom,  or  never,  have  to  repent  of  doing  any 
thing  which  we  have  well  prayed  over,  and  then  acted 
according  to  the  best  of  our  judgment. — I  have  been  but 
little  at  home,  and  then  have  been  very  poorly  in  health 
since  I  received  yours :  so  that  you  must  excuse  my  delay  in 
writing.  I  do  not  quite  forget  you  and  your  concerns 
when  at  the  throne  of  grace,  though  I  cannot  say  with 
V'di\\,  alwai/s  in  every  prayer.  This  is  one  among  many 
things  in  this  blessed  apostle  which  I  admire,  that,  amidst 
his  manifold  and  important  employments,  he  seems  scarce- 
ly ever  to  have  forgotten  any  of  his  churches  or  friends, 


1779 1785.]     CORRESPONDENCE.  195 

but  to  have  been  constant,  fervent,  and  particular  in  his 
prayers  for  them  all  and  every  one.  The  Lord  help  me 
to  imitate  him  ! — I  can  sympathize  with  you  in  your  sor- 
row, but  can  give  you  no  other  advice  or  comfort,  than 
what  you  already  know. — The  Lord  is  sovereign  and 
owes  us  nothing  :  and  therefore  we  have  abundant  cause 
for  thankfulness  for  what  he  hath,  in  a  distinguishing 
manner,  done  for  us,  but  none  to  complain  of  v/hat  he  de- 
nies us.  Be  still,  and  know  that  lam  God,  is  a  lesson 
which  all  his  people  must  learn  experimentally.  Wait 
the  Lord^s  time,  is  another  of  the  same  sort.  To  love 
Christ  even  more  than  father  and  mother,  and  to  desire 
his  glory  even  more  than  their  welfare,  (which  yet  is  a 
duty  to  desire  next  of  all,)  is  another  very  hard  lesson 
which  a  true  Christian  must  learn.  But,  when  you  have 
made  proficiency  a  little  in  these  lessons,  you  do  not 
know  what  He  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  in  answer  to  pa- 
tient, persevering,  believing,  submissive  prayers,  may 
do  for  you.  At  all  events  you  know  he  does  hear  prayer, 
and  I  dare  venture  to  say,  that  your  most  earnest  impor- 
tunate prayers  for  your  parents  are  as  sweet  music  in  his 
ears ;  and  that  he  delights  to  hear  them,  as  offered  through 
the  intercession  of  Jesus.  I  lament  much  that  there  is  so 
little  of  this  spirit  amongst  professors  of  religion.  If  ever 
it  become  general,  religion  will  spread  in  families  and 
neighbourhoods,  as  fire  in  a  sheaf.  Where  two  agree  on 
earth  as  touching  any  thing  that  they  shall  ask,  it  shall 

he  done  for  them.     Try  the  experiment Though 

it  is  very  proper  to  drop  a  word  now  and  then,  yet  I 
would  advise  you  to  be  sparing  in  it,  as  it  will  be  miscon- 
strued into  assuming  and  preaching.  Meekness,  atten- 
tion, affection,  and  every  expression  of  honour  and  re- 
spect ;  a  mixture  of  seriousness  and  cheerfulness ;  (which 
be  sure  you  aim  at — nothing  prejudices  more  than  an 


HHS  CORRESPONDENCE.  [ChAP.VIII. 

nppcarance  of  luclaiicholy  :)  now  j»ncl  tlien  a  pertinent 
text  of  scripture  ;  a  hint  dropped,  and  opportunities 
watched,  when  people  are  more  willing  to  hear  than  at 
other  times  ;  this,  accompanied  with  many  prayers,  is 
the  line  I  would  mark  out.  But  the  Lord  i^iveth  wis- 
dom :  and  I  doubt  not  he  has  been  beforehand  with  me. 
I  must  concUide  with  wishing  you  success  in  the  naine  of 
the  LordP 

The  following  letters  take  a  wider  range.  Besides 
explaining  more  fully  the  nature  of  his  situation  at  01- 
ney,  they  develope  the  views  which  he  had  now  begun  to 
take  of  the  state  of  religious  profession  at  that  time, 
among  many  persons  of  the  class  frecpiently  denominated 
evangelical ;  which  views  influenced  the  whole  of  his  fu- 
ture ministry.  Incidedtally  also  they  disclose  the  sort 
of  sentiments  which  he  had  formed,  and  to  which  for 
substance  he  ever  adhered^  on  church-government,  and 
some  other  subjects. 

The  first  (dated  April  29,  17S3,)  is  to  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Mayor,  who  has  been  already  iritroduced  to  the  reader. 

'^  My  very  dear  friend^ I  would  desire  to 

bless  God  for,  and  to  rejoice  in  the  grace  given  unto  you, 
and  that  he  hath  given  you  those  peculiar  views  of  the 
great  things  of  the  gospel,  which  alone  can  effectually 
prevent  the  abuse  of  them,  and  accomplish  that  glorious 
purpose  for  which  they  are  designed.  The  moral  ex- 
cellency and  beauty  of  divine  things — the  glory  and  love- 
liness of  the  divine  nature,  law,  and  gospel — spiritually 
discerned,  are  the  grand  ])rescrvative  against  every  error 
and  every  abuse  in  religion.  This  God  hath  given  you,  and 
given  you  to  understand  the  use  that  is  to  be  made  of  it, 
not  only  for  the  sanctifying  and  comforting  of  your  own 
soul,  but  likewise  for  the  work  of  the  ministry.  For  this 


1779 1785.]     CORRESPONDENCE.  197 

I  bless  God  ;  and  especially  because  in  this  day  there  is 
great  need  of  it^  and  few  I  fear  have  a  proper  sense  of  it. 
Sure  I  am  that  evangelical  religion  is  in  many  places  wo- 
fully  verging  to  antinomianism, — one  of  the  vilest  heresiCvS 
that  ever  Satan  invented ;  our  natural  pride  and  carnali- 
ty being  both  humoured  and  fed  by  it,  under  the  plausi- 
ble pretence  of  exalting  free  grace,  and  debasing  human 
nature.  But,  whilst  antinomians  talk  of  the  grace  of  the 
gospel,  they  overturn  all  revealed  religion." — He  here 
proceeds  to  argue  that  there  can  be  no  more  grace  in  the 
gospel  than  there  is  equity  in  the  law,  and  justice  in  its 
penalty ;  that  the  whole  scheme,  which  derogates  from 
the  honour  of  the  divine  law,  cherishes  the  propensity 
of  our  corrupt  nature  to  excuse  self,  extenuate  sin,  and 
cast  blame  upon  God ;  and  that  "  the  conversion  of  the 
antinomian,  notwithstanding  all  his  good  feelings,  only 
leaves  him  tenfold  more  a  hater  of  the  God  of  the  Bible, 
than  he  was  before.  This,  my  friend,'^  he  proceeds, 
"  I  am  sure  of,  and  see  more  and  more  clearly  every  day  ; 
and  the  enmity  of  loose  professors  against  searching,  prac- 
tical preaching,  is  full  proof  of  it :  and  by  God's  grace 
I  purpose  to  spend  my  whole  life  in  bearing  testimony 
against  it;  and  shall  rejoice  in  having  you  for  a  helper. 
In  this  work  we  must  expect  no  quarter,  either  from  the 
world,  or  some  kind  of  professors.  But  we  need  wisdom 
equally  with  zeal  and  boldness.  Let  us  observe  that 
some  excellent  men,  far  before  us  in  every  other  re- 
spect, have  been  unintentionally  betrayed  into  some  mis- 
takes of  this  kind  ;  that  therefore  a  religion  bordering  on 
antinomianism  has  the  countenance  of  respectable  names : 
strong  prejudices  are  in  most  places  in  favour  of  it:  many 
hypocrites,  I  doubt  not,  there  are  amongst  those  who  are 
for  it :  but  they  are  not  all  hypocrites.  We  are  poor  in- 
consistent creatures,  and  few  see  the  consequences,  of  their 


198  CORRESPONUENCK.  [ChAP.  Till, 

own  sentiments.     You  and  I  are  young,  obscure,  little, 
nothing,  in  comparison  of  those  who  have  lent  their  names 
to  the  opposite  side.     We  must  not  therefore  call  them 
masters  ;  nor  must  we  conceal  our  sentiments,  or  shun  to 
declare  the  ivhole  counsel  of  God.      The  wisdom  that  is 
from  abovrt  is  first  pure,  then  peaceable.     We  have 
therefore  need  of  this  wisdom  :  let  us  ask  it  of  God.     I 
would  reccommend  it  to  you,  and  to  myself,  whilst  we 
guard  against  one  extreme,  to  be  careful  lest  we  be  pushed 
by  Satan  into  the  other.     If  we  are  faithful,  we  shall  be 
called  self-willed^  self-important,  obstinate.  The  clamour 
we  may  contemn  :  but  let  us  watch  and  pray  against  the 
thing  itself.  They  will  say,  we  speak  and  act  in  our  own 
spirit :  let  us  beg  of  God  continually  that  they  may  have 
no  just  reason  to  say  so.  They  will  say  we  are  legal :  but 
let  us,  by  preaching  Christ,  and  dw  elling  clearly  and  fully 
on  the  glorious  scheme  of  free  redemption,  and  its  pecu- 
liar doctrines,  improving  them  to  practical  purposes,  con- 
fute them.     They  will  say  that  our  '  scrupulosity'   in 
practice  springs  from  self- righteousness,  and  a  pharisaical 
spirit.     Let  us  then  carefully  avoid  extremes  ;  laying  too 
much  stress  on  little  things  ;  and  censoriousness  :  con- 
demning false  practices  mainly  by  our  conduct.     I  am 
persuaded  God  intends  to  do  something  for  his  glory  by 
you,  by  and  by. — Satan  hath  tried  to  preclude  your  use- 
fulness, by  taken  advantff^e  of  your  zeal  and  honesty  to 
hurry  you  into  extremes  and  indiscretions.     The  minds 
of  many  are  prejudiced.    It  is  your  trial,  and  I  hope  you 
will  be  the  better  for  it :  but  watch  and  pray  for  tlie  tinu^ 
to  come.     For  my  part,  I  make  no  scruple  of  declaring 
my  sentiments  to  all  I  am  acquainted  with  concerning  you, 
and  I  doubt  not  but  matters  will  be  otherwise,  if  you  do 
but  observe  such  short  rules  as  these.   First  :  Do  nothing 
in  halite.     Pray,  pray,  pray,  before  you  determine.     Se- 


1779 1785.]    CORRESPONDENCE.  199 

eondly  :  Avoid  all  extremes.  Thirdly  :  Be  not  peculiar 
in  any  thing  which  is  not  a  case  of  conscience.  Fourthly : 
Leave  outward  reformation  mainly  to  the  magistrate. 
Your  iveapons  are  not  carnal.  Fifthly  :  Remember  that 
Satan's  kingdom  is  too  strong  for  an  arm  of  flesh  :  keep 
your  dependence  on  the  Almighty.  Sixthly  :  Study  to 
improve  not  only  in  grace  and  knowledge^  but  in  gifts  : 
deliberate^  audible^  methodical  utterance.  Preach  as  you 
read  prayers.  Lastly  :  Though  no  part  of  truth  is  to  be 
kept  back,  yet?  some  being  of  greater  importance,  and 
other  of  less,  dwell  mainly  on  the  greater,  and  only  men- 
tion the  other  occasionally. —  Verbum  sapienti. — I  take 

the  liberty  of  a  friend  ;  use  the  same  with  me Write 

sooner  and  longer  than  before  ;  and,  if  you  have  any  re- 
maining scruples  about  the  church,  do  open  your  mind 
to  me.  .  Satan  would,  I  think,  wish  you  to  leave  your 

station 

Your  friend  and  brother, 

T.  Scott." 
As  this  letter  presents  only  a  specimen  of  those  com- 
plaints, which  we  shall  see  frequently  reprated  in  the 
course  of  the  present  work,  of  a  prevailing  tendency  to 
antinomian  abuse  of  the  gospel,  among  numbers  who  held 
many  of  the  doctrines  for  which  my  father  contended,  it 
may  be  expedient  here  to  offer  a  remark   or  two  upon 
that  subject. — Be  it  then  ever  remembered,  that,  when 
my  father  complained  of    antinomianism  existing  among 
persons  of  this  description,  he  by  no  means  intended  that 
it  was  found  only,  or  even  principally  among  them.     On 
this  subject  he  thus  speaks  in  the  preface  to  his  Sermon 
on  the  doctrines  of   Election  and  Final  Perseverance  : 
"  On  the  other  hand,  the  Arminian  is  not  at  all  secured 
from  antinomianism,  nor  the  Calvinist  exposed  to  it,  by 
their  several  tenets  :  seeing  both  of  them  are  antinomian 


200  CORRESPONDENCE.  [ClIAP.   A  III. 

just  as   far  as  they   are    uiisanctified,  and   no    further; 
because  the  carnal  mind  is  enmitij  against  Gad,  for  it  is 
NOT  SUHJECT  TO  THE  LAW  of  God,  neither  indeed  can  it 
he.   Pcrha])s  speculating  aiitinoniians  ahoiind  most  among 
professed  Calvinists:   hut  antinomians,  whose  sentiments 
influence  their  practice ,  are  innumerahle  among  Armeni- 
ans.    Does  the  reader  douht  this  ?  Let  him  ask   any  of 
those  multitudes  who  trample  on  God's  commandments, 
what  they  think  of  predestination  and  election ;  and  he 
will  speedily  he  convinced  that  it  is  undeniahly  true  :  for 
all  these,  in  various  ways,  take  occasion  from  the  mercy 
of  God  to  encourage  themselves  in  impenitent  wicked- 
ness.    It  would  therefore  he  unspeakably  better  for  all 
parties  to  examine  these  subjects  with  impartiality,  meek- 
ness, find  brotherly  love,  than    reciprocally  to  censure, 
despise,  and  condemn  one  another.*' — In  short,  my  fa- 
thers complaint  was  not  that  persons   cml)racing  these 
doctrines  weveivorse  than  others,  but  that  many  of  them 
were  found  by  no  means  so  much  better  than  others,  as 
lie  was  convinced  their  principles  ought  to  have  made 
them. — Tlie  following  extract  of  a  letter  written  at  a  sub- 
sequent period,  may  also  explain  what  were  the  nature 
and  the  source  of  much  of  that  leaning  to  antinomianism 
of  which  he  complained.      "  Many  preachers  are  not  di- 
rectly antinomian  in  doctrine,  who  yet  dwell  so  fully  and 
constantly  on  doctrinal  points,  and  give  the  several  paits 
of  the  Christian  temper  and  conduct,  in  all  its  branches 
and   ramifications,  so  little   prominency,  that,   after  all, 
their  hearers   are  never  taught  the  particulars  of  their 
duty,  in  the  several  relations  to  God  and  man,  in  the  im- 
provement of  their  talents,  the  redemption  of  their  time, 
<S:c.     They  are  told,  in  a  few  words,  that  they  should  be 
holy  and  do   good  works,  but  they  are  left  ignorant  in 
wliat  genuine  holiness  and  good  works  consist;  and  often 


1779 1785.]     CORRESPONDENCE.  201 

live  in  sin,  or  neglect  of  duty,  for  want  of  knowing  this 
and  the  other  thing  to  be  sin  or  duty.^' 

The  two  next  letters  are  to  the  Rev.  G.  More,  a  Scotch 
minister,  then  situate  in  the  north  of  England.  This 
gentleman  appears  to  have  written  to  him  in  consequence 
of  reading  the  Force  of  Truth. 

"  April  14,  1784.  I  must  frankly  observe  that  I  am 
not  much  attached  to  externals,  being  decidedly  of 
opinion,  that,  had  the  Lord  Jesus  intended  all  his  peo- 
ple to  be  of  the  same  sentiments  about  church  government, 
he  would  have  explicitly  declared  it,  as  under  the  Jew- 
ish dispensation,  and  have  rendered  it  impossible  for 
godly,  reflecting,  and  judicious  persons  to  have  differed 
much  about  these  things  :  even  as  it  is  impossible  for 
such  persons  much  to  differ  about  the  method  of  a  sinner's 
justification,  or  the  nature  and  need  of  regeneration. 
Every  man  ought  to  be  satisfied  in  his  own  mind  about 
the  lawfulness  of  communicating  as  a  Christian,  or  ofliciating 
as  a  minister,  in  that  society  he  belongs  to,  and  leave 
others  to  judge  for  themselves  ;  candidly  supposing  that 
men  who  are  conscientious  in  other  things  are  so  in  this  : 
and,  though  they  see  not  as  we  see,  yet  possibly  their 
eyes  may  be  as  good  as  our's.  In  my  own  judgment, 
after  I  hope  much  serious  and  impartial  consideration,  I 
am  a  moderate  Episcopalian,  and  a  P cede  baptist ;  but 
am  entirely  willing  my  brethren  should  be,  some  Presby- 
terians, and  some  Independents,  and  not  extremely  un- 
willing that  some  should  be  Baptists  ;  rejoicing  that 
Christ  is  preached,  and  the  essentials  of  true  religion  up- 
held amongst  persons  of  different  sentiments,  and  only 
grieved  that  each  one  will  be  what  he  is  jure  divino,  and 
judge  and  condemn  others.  I  would  only  beseech  all  ta 
leave  biting  and  devouring  one  another^  and  to  unite 

2C 


20'Z  CORRESPONDENCE.  [ClIAP.   VIIL 

together  ill  striving,  as  so   many  regiments  in  one  army, 
against  the   common   enemy.       My  avowal  of  my  senti- 
ments on  this  subject  will  help  you  to   know  your  man, 
and  w  hat  you  are  to  expect. — My  post  is  very  different 
from  yoni^'s.     There  are  above  two  thousand  inhabitants 
in  this  town,  almost  all  Calvinists,  even  the  most  debauch- 
ed of  them  ;  the    gospel  having  been  preached  among 
them  for  a  number  of  years  by  a  variety  of  preachei*s, 
statedly  and  occasionally,    sound  and  unsound,  in  church 
and  meeting.     The  inhabitants  are  become  like  David, 
wiser  than  their  teaehers  ;  that  is,  they  think  themselves 
so.  and,  in  an  awful  manner,    have  learned  to  abuse  gos- 
pel-notions to  stupify  their  consciences,  vindicate  their 
sloth  and  wickedness,  and  shield  off  conviction.     There 
is  an  Independent    meeting  in  the  town,  the   minister  of 
which  is  newly  come  amongst  us,  and  for  this  and  other 
reasons  is  very  popular.     He  is,   I    doubt  not,  a  godly 
man  ;  but  his  preaching  does  not  appear  to  me  calcula- 
ted to    rouse  a   stupid  audience  out  of    their   lethargy. 
There  is  also  a  Baptist  meeting,   the  ministers  of  which 
heretofore,  by  dry  supralapsarian  discourses,  accompani- 
ed by  little  alarming,   inviting,   searching,   or  practical 
matter,  have  done  much  to  bring  things  to  this  pass.     If 
you  are  acquainted  with  the  disputes  about  the  modern 
question^  you  will  need  nothing  more  to  be  said  on  that 
system  of  passivity  introduced  by  the  strenuous  deniei^ 
of  its  being  every  man's  duty  to  believe.     If  you  have 
not  met  with  any  thing  on  this  subject,  on  another  occa- 
sion I  will  write  a  Iktle  more  upon  it.     But  the  present 
minister  is  a  solid,  judicious,  and  godly  man,  though  not 
an  awakening  preacher As  for  myself,  I  am  very  un- 
popular in  this  town,  and  preach  in   general  to  very 
small  congregations.     Before  I    came  hither  I    had  two 
curacies  in  the  neighbourhood,  one  of  which  I  retain 


X779 1785. J  CORRESPONDENCE.  203 

with  Olney.     There  I  have  a  people  to  whom  the  Lord 
has  made  me  the  instrument  of  good.     They  love  me, 
and  are  a  comfort  to  me.     They  are  not  very  numerous, 
but  so  many  as  to  prevent  my  complaing  that  I  have  quite 
laboured  in  vain  ;  and  the  Lord  adds  to  their  number 
one  and  another  from  time  to  time.     0  that  he  wo\ild 
multiply  them  a  hundred,  or  a  thousand  fold  1 — I  have  a 
few  even  at  Olney  who  cleave  to  me,  and  a  small  number 
of  those  who  are  my  own  :  but  I  labour  under  great  dis- 
couragement in  this  respect,  and   am  generally  looked 
upon  as  unsound,    legal,    Arminian.     The  truth  of  the 
matter  is,  upon  mature  deliberation  I  am  convinced  that 
the  preaching  of  the  present  day  is  not  practical  enough, 
or  sufficiently  distinguishing  between  true  and  false  ex- 
perience.    I  therefore  speak  more  fully  than  most  do  of 
the   moral    character  of  the  Deity  ;  of  the    excellency, 
glory,  and  loveliness  of  that  character  as  described  in  the 
word  of  God.     From  this  I    deduce  the  reasonableness 
and  excellency  of  the  holy  law  of  God ;  which  I  endea- 
vour fully  to  open  in  its  extensive  requirements.     Thence 
follows  man's  obligation  to  love  God,  both  on  account  of 
his  infinite  loveliness,  and  of  our   natural  relations  and 
obligations  to  him.     Then  I  demonstrate  the  evil  of  sin, 
as  apostacy  from  this  lovely  and  glorious  God  and  king, 
and  transgression  of  his  perfect  law.     Thence  I  shew  the 
justice  of  God  in  the  infinite,  the  eternal  punishment  of 
sinners  ;  it  being  necessary  that  God  should  mark  his  ha- 
tred ol  this   hateful   thing,    magnify  his  holy   law,  and 
shew  his  justice,    that  he  might  appear  glorious  in  the 
eyes  of  all  forever,  but  rebels. — Thus  I  suppose  I  dig 
deep  to  lay  the  foundation  for  the  gospel  of  free  grace  : 
the  necessity,  nature,  and  glory  of  the  vicarious  obedi- 
ence and  suiferings  of  Emmanual  ;  the  sufficiency  of  his 
one  sacrifice  ;  and  his  ability  and  willingness  to  save  to 


304  «jORiu:sFONDENCE.  [Chap.  VIII. 

the  uttermost  all  that  come.  Thence  I  shew  that  all  who 
will  7iunj  come,  (niirht  to  come,  and  that  all  sin  atrociously 
in  not  coming  :  that,  however,  it  is  in  no  natural  man's 
heart  to  come ;  because  each  man  is  proud,  selfish, 
worldly,  and  carnal  :  therefore,  all  are  without  excuse. 
But  a  God  of  sovereign  grace,  having  mercy  on  whom 
he  will,  according  to  his  own  purpose  makes  some  wil- 
ling, by  regeneration.  This  changes  the  prevailing  bent 
of  the  heart,  and  henceforth  the  man  is  not  only  humbly 
w  illing  to  be  justified  by  faith,  and  saved  by  grace,  but 
hat-is  and  repents  of  sin,  loves  God's  law,  loves  holiness^ 
and  leads  a  holy  life,  sincerely,  progressively,  though  im- 
perfectly.— receiving  from  Christ  daily  grace  so  to  do ; 
anrl  that  all  experience  which  has  not  this  affect  is  false. 
Every  tret  that  bringeth  not  forth  i^ood  fruity  &c. 
My  paper  forbids  more. — This  is  the  outline  of  my 
scheme.  Pray  animadvert  upon  it ;  for  I  would  daily 
revise,  correct,  and  improve  it." 

Some  copies  of  the  Discourse  on  Repentance,  then  just 
published,  accompanied  the  next  letter.  The  first  sen- 
tence relates  to  that  work. 

"  May  23,  1785. — I  hope  it  will  meet  your  approba- 
tion, as  it  goes  fully  to  establish  that  practical  scheme  you 
approve,  and  to  oppose  the  loose  notional  religion  which 
is  so  common 

"  I  am  much  at  a  loss  what  to  say  concerning  your 
situation  with  your  congregation.  I  have  seen  and  heard 
of  so  many  such  things  that  I  am  really  grieved  ;  and 
discouraged  respecting  the  success  of  the  gospel  in  the 
dissenting  congregations.  No  sooner  does  a  minister 
begin  in  good  earnest  to  address  the  consciences  of  his 
hearers,  in  an  awakening,  searching,  and  practical  man- 
ner, and  there  is  hope  that  religion  will  revive,  converts 
be  made,  and  Christians  quickened  to  adorn  their  pre- 


1779 — 1785.]     CORRESPONDENCE.  205 

fession  ;  than  some  antimonian  hypocrite,  or  some  injudi- 
cious dry  professor,  whose  tongue  or  purse  has  given  him 
considerable  influence,  begins  to  form  a  party  against  the 
minister ;  to  censure,  browbeat,  discourage,  oppose,  or 
expel  him.  Hence  some  are  restrained  ;  and,  by  the 
fear  of  man,  which  bringth  a  snare,  their  ardour  is  damp 
ed ;  they  feel  themselves  in  thraldom  ;  and,  if  they  are 
not  consciously  unfaithful,  they  are  forced  to  use  such  cau- 
tion as  cramps  them  in  their  ministrations,  and  takes  of 
much  of  their  pungency.  Others  are  turned  out  and  re- 
duced to  great  difficulty  :  but  this  is  by  far  the  best,  as 
it  throws  them  immediately  into  the  care  of  the  Lord,  for 
whose  sake  they  suffer,  and  who  will  certainly,  in  due 
time,  provide  for  all  who  suffer  for  him. — ^Thus  a  stupid 
congregation  choose  a  pastor  of  their  own  cast,  when  a 
peculiarly  alarming,  heart  searching  one  is  requisite  ;  and 
so  matters  grow  worse  and  worse.  Or,  if  the  pastor  they 
choose  turns  out  different  than  they  expected,  they  either 
spoil  or  expel  him  :  and  thus,  in  many  places,  the  form 
and  notion  are  all  that  is  retained  of  true  religion. — 
But  the  work  is  the  Lord's,  and  from  time  to  time  he  in- 
terposes, in  some  unexpected  manner,  and  beyond  hope 
brings  about  a  revival.  However,  in  this  respect,  we 
(of  the  church)  have  the  best  of  it.  My  discontented 
ones,  who  have  been  numerous,  have  now  left  me  in  pea- 
ceable possession  :  many  more  hearers  fill  up,  and  much 
more  than  fill  up  their  places ;  and  still  the  work  of  the 
Lord  goes  forward :  nor  hath  their  opposition  done  me 
any  real  harm,  but  I  hope  much  good. — I  shall  tell  you  a 
short  story,  by  way  of  improving  this  part  of  your  letter. 
A  dissenting  minister,  (at  Cambridge,  I  think,)  preach- 
ing very  practically,  was  found  fault  with  by  his  peo- 
ple, who  gave  him  to  understand  that  they  must  part 
with  him,  if  he  did  not  alter  the  strain  of  his  preaching.  The 


206  CORRESPONDENCE.  [ClIAP.  VIII. 

poor  man,  liaving  a  family,  shrunk  for  a  time  ;  but  it  prey- 
ed upon  his  health  and  spirits  ;  which  his  wife  observing, 
])lainly  told  him  that  he  distrusted  God  out  of  fear  of  man, 
and  was  unfaithful ;  and  begged  of  him  to  preach  accord- 
ing to  his  conscience,  and  leave  the  event  to  God.  Ac- 
cordingly he  did  so,  and  was  expelled.  But  just  at  that 
time  a  larger  meeting,  with  a  better  salary,  and  a  more 
lively  people,  being  vacant,  he  was  invited  thither,  and 
settled  among  them  ;  lived  in  plenty  ;  and  preached  with 
acceptance  and  usefulness,  till  removed  by  death.  This 
is  a  matter  of  fact. — Be  but  faithful  then,  my  brother  : 
never  mince  the  matter  :  never  fear  man  :  plead  God's 
cause  with  the  people,  and  the  people's  cause  with  God  ; 
and  make  it  your  great  business  to  live  what  you  preach  : 
and  he  will  surely  extricate  you  out  of  all  difficulties. 
When  a  7nan^s  ivays  please  the  Lord,  he  ijiaketh  his  ene- 
mies to  be  at  peaee  ivith  him. 

"\  am  not  of  opinion  that  the  system  of  passivity 
I  mentioned  is  new  to  you.  The  word  may  be, 
but  the  thing  itself  you  seem  acquainted  with,  to  your 
considerable  uneasiness.  A  few  words  will  explain  my 
meaning.  An  unconverted  man  says,  '  I  can  do  no- 
thing :  if  God  would  give  me  a  heart,  I  should  pray, 
repent,  believe  ;  but  I  cannot  give  myself  a  heart  :  if 
he  will  not,  how  can  I  help  it  ?  I  must  wait  his  time  : 
perhaps  he  sometime  may,  and  sometime  he  certainly 
will,  if  I  be  one  of  the  elect ;  and  if  not  I  must  perish, 
and  all  I  can  do  will  signify  nothing.'  A  professor  says, 
*  I  have  declined  and  back-slidden  :  if  God  will  be  pleased 
to  revive  me  I  shall  be  restored  :  I  must  wait :  I  hope  I 
have  known  better  times  :  and  He  will  not  finally  forsake 
his  people.'  In  this  style  they  excuse  their  sloth  and 
lukewarmness,  quiet  their  consciences,  stop  their  ears  to 
exhortation,  and,  inider  pretence  of  passively  waiting  till 


1779 1785. J  OORRESPONDENCE.  207 

God  do  all^  and  of  giving  him  all  the  glory,  fairly  exone- 
rate themselves  of  their  guilty,  and  carge  it  all  upon  God ! 
— Indeed  Adam's  race  seem  determined  that  the  glory 
of  the  good  and  the  blame  of  the  bad  shall  go  together. 
The  Arrainian  takes  the  blame  of  the  bad  to  himself,  and 
thinks  it  but  reasonable  that  he  should  have  the  glory  of 
the  good  too.  The  pseudo-Calvinist  gives  God  all  the 
glory  of  the  good,  but  seems  to  think  it  reasonable  that 
he  should  bear  the  blame  of  the  bad  also.  But  the  true 
Christian  says, '  To  me,  even  to  me  alone,  belong  shame  and 
confusion  of  face  for  all  my  rebellion,  impenitence,  unbe- 
lief, and  sloth,  all  my  days  :  but  to  God  alone  belongs  the 
glory  of  all  the  good  wrought  in  me,  or  done  by  me  ?'  " 

I  present  the  reader  with  one  more  letter,  strikingly 
displaying  the  fervour  of  the  writer's  spirit  in  his  Mas- 
ter's service,  and  the  stimulating  nature  of  his  inter- 
course with  his  fellow -servants.  It  is  to  his  friend  Mr. 
Mayor,  dated  May  14,   1785. 

"  My  dear  friend.  Nothing  could  sufficiently  apo- 
logize for  my  omission  of  writing,  except  your  own.  Nay 
indeed,  though  that  does  keep  me  in  countenance,  yet 
I  do  not  think  we  are  either  of  us  excused.  For  a 
little  time  now  and  then  spent  in  dictating  a  letter  to 
each  other  might  be  a  means  of  quickening  both  of 
us ;  as  we  have  before  now  found  conversation  to  be. 
Remember,  Iron  sharpens  iron.  Yea,  remember  what 
Horace  says, 

Ergo  fungar  vice  cotis,  acutum 

Redderequae  ferrum  valet,  exsors  ipsa  secandi. 

Therefore,  whether  you  can  cut  yourself  or  not,  try  to 
whet  me,  and  make  me  cut ;  and  then  I  hope  I  shall  try 
to  return  the  obligation.  I  believe  Satan  prevails  as 
much  against  the  cause  of  Christ  by  persuading  min- 
isters to  sit  still,   or   merely  to   go   on  in  the   beaten 


.0)6  CORKESFONDENCE.  [ChAP.   VIII. 

round,  without  attempting  any  thing  more,  as  in  any 
other  way.  My  conscience  is  never  quiet  and  joyful, 
but  when  I  am  busy  in  some  ministerial  employment; 
not  merely  in  acquiring,  but  in  communicating  the 
knowledge  of  divine  things  by  my  tongue  and  pen  : 
not  only  by  meditation  endeavouring  to  affect  my  own 
heart,  but,  by  some  method  or  other,  endeavouring  to 
affect  others,  and  stir  them  up  to  seek,  trust,  love,  and 
serve  the  Lord.  And,  after  a  multitude  of  thoughts  about 
pride,  ambition,  &c.  influencing  me  to  be  active,  (and 
they  will  insinuate  themselves,)  I  am  persuaded  Satan 
would  have  me  while  away  my  life  in  inactivity,  under 
pretences  of  modesty,  diffidence,  and  humility;  and  he 
never  is  wanting  to  furnish  me  with  excuses  for  delay- 
ing or  shifting  services.  But  I  beg  of  God  to  rouse 
us  from  this  lethargy.  Paul  says  to  Timothy,  Be  in- 
stant in  season^  out  of  season ;  preaeh  the  word ;  and 
I  seems  to  think  there  is  more  danger  of  sloth,  than  of 
**too  great  activity  in  the  preacher  of  the  gospel.  May 
the  love  of  Christ  constrain  us,  and  compassion  for  pe- 
rishing souls  prevail  with  us,  to  leave  no  means  un- 
tried to  promote  faith  and  holiness,  and  to  bear  testi- 
mony against  irreligion  and  false  religion  ;  to  awaken 
the  careless,  to  undeceive  the  deluded,  to  allure  souls  to 
Christ,  to  encourage  the  humble,  and  stir  up  the  be- 
liever to  glorify  God. — Write  soon  a  letter  longer  than 
the  note  you  sent  from  Birmingham,  and  let  me  know 
how  things  go  on  in  your  soul,  and  in  your  congre- 
gation. Stir  up,  my  brother,  the  gift  of  God  that  is  in 
you.  Hoc  AGE.  Now  is  the  time  to  labour,  and  suf- 
fer hardship  and  reproach.  It  is  both  seed-time  and  har- 
vest ;  and  it  is  shameful  to  sleep  in  either.  Cast  your 
bread  upon  the  ivaters.  Sow  in  the  morning,,  and  in  the 
evening^  and  water  it  with  many  prayers ;  and,  if  you  see 


1785 1797.]     CORRESPONDENCE.  209 

it  not  before,  you  will  see  the  fruit  of  it  at  the  last  day. 
— Some  little  good  is  going  on  here,  and  we  are  waiting 
and  praying  for  more  :  lend  us  your  assistance  in  this  par- 
ticular. .  .  . 

"  I  should  have  been  glad  to  be  at  Birmingham,  but 
could  not : — especially  to  have  met  you  there.  .  .  . 

"  Desiring  to  remember  you  in  my  prayers,  and  re- 
questing your  prayers^  I  remain  your  very  affectionate 
friend  and  brother,  Thomas  Scott.^' 


2  D 


210  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  [CUAP  IX. 


CHAPTER  L\. 


FHOM    THE    CLOSE    OF    HIS    MINISTRY  AT    OLNEY  TO  THE 
COMMENCEMENT  OF  HIS  COMMENTARY  ON  THE  BIBLE. 

^  Such  was  the  nature  of  my  father's  situation,  and  such 
the  course  he  was  pursuing,  when  events  occurred,  by 
whicli  he  was  very  unexpectedly  called  to  occupy  higher 
ground,  and  to  enter  upon  a  new  field  of  service  and  of 
trial.  But  he  himself  shall  furnish  both  the  introduction 
to  this  change,  and  the  history  of  what  took  place.  Thus 
^^fele  speaks  in  his  narrative  :  • 

'^  My  outward  circumstances  were  now  in  some  mea- 
sure  iniproved  at  Olney :  and  my  ministry,  though  unpo- 
pular, was  in  many  instances  evidently  blessed  :  yet  1 
never  could  make  up  my  mind  to  continue  there.  The 
vicar,  the  Rev.  Moses  Browne,  was  very  old,  and  there 
was  no  doubt,  that,  in  the  event  of  his  death,  I  should  be 
presented  to  the  living,  if  I  remained  on  the  curacy.  But 
this  very  circumstance  tended  to  render  me  dissatisfied.  I 
cannot,  and  need  not  convey  to  others  a  particular  ac- 
count of  all  things  which  rendered  the  thoughts  of  spend- 
ing my  days  at  Olney  painful  to  me  ;  and  the  change  of 
situation,  from  curate  to  vicar,  would,  with  respect  to 
some  of  them,  have  rather  aggravated  than  relieved  my 
difiicidtics.  In  part  my  views  might  be  erroneous  ;  but, 
in  the  far  greater  part,  I  should  feel  the  same  objection 


1785 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.        211 

Still,  if  Olney  were  what  it  was  then  :  which  in  some  re- 
spects it  certainly  is  not. 

"  I  had  not,  however,  the  most  distant  prospect  of  any 
other  situation  :  and  my  unpopularity  at  Olney  was  it- 
self a  powerful  bar  to  my  obtaining  any.  This  may  be 
judged  of  by  the  following  incident.  I  went  to  London, 
as  I  was  accustomed  to  do  once  a  year,  and  I  was  asked 
to  preach  by  a  friend  whom  I  had  heard  with  profit,  as 
early  as  I  so  heard  any  one,  and  for  whom  I  had  repeat- 
edly preached  before.  But,  just  as  I  was  going  into  the 
pulpit,  he  said  to  me,  '  Do  not  scold  my  people,  as  I  have 
heard  you  do  the  people  at  Olney  ?'  This  did  not  seem 
well  timed.  He,  however,  unreservedly  testified  his 
approbation  of  the  sermon  which  I  was,  notwithstanding, 
enabled  to  preach.  But  it  shews  the  representations 
which  were  spread  of  my  ministry,  and  how  unfavourable 
they  would  be  to  my  desire  of  a  change  of  situation. 

"  Mr.  Cowper,  in  letters  to  Mr.  Newton  which  have 
since  been  published  by  Mr.   Hayley,  and  which  pretty 
generally  found  their  way  into  the  Reviews,  brought  the 
same  charge  against  me,  in  strong  terms ;  which,  coming 
from  so  eminent  and  popular  a  character,  must  have  great 
weight.     But  Mr.  C,  it  should  be  known,  never  heard 
me  preach  :  neither  did  Mrs.  Unwin ;  nor  their  more  re- 
spectable friends.     Mr.  C's  information  concerning  my 
preaching  was  derived  from  the  very  persons,   whose 
doctrinal  and  practical  antinomianism  I  steadily  confront- 
ed. — Notwithstanding  these  harsh  censures,  however,  God 
blessed  my  ministry  at  Olney  to  the  conversion  of  many ; 
and  to  effectaally  repressing  the  antinomian  spirit  which  had 
gone  forth  in  the  place  :  and  thus  it  was  made  subser- 
vient to  the  usefulness  of  my  successors,  who  were  not 
bowed  down  with  the  same  load  of  unpopularity  that  I 
was." 


212  FROM  QUITTING  OLNE\  [ClIAP.  IX. 

In  explanation  of  what  is  here  mentioned  concerning 
Mr.  Cowper  s  never  hearing  my  father  preach,  it  should 
be  remembered,  that  one  feature  of  the  unhappy  illusion, 
under  which  that  admired  character  laboured,  was  a  per- 
suasion that  it  was  his  duty  to  abstain  from  religious  wor- 
ship. I  believe  I  am  correct  in  stating  the  fact  thus  ge- 
nerally :  certainly,  at  least,  he  abstained  from  piihlic 
worship,  as  from  a  blessing  prohibited  to  him:  andl  think 
I  have  a  distinct  recollection,  that,  though  he  might  suf- 
fer prayer  to  be  offered  in  the  room  with  him,  he  declin- 
ed joining  in  it. — Mrs.  Unwin  never  quitted  the  object 
of  her  assidous  care. 

On  the  success  of  his  labours,  as  here  represented,  my 
father  thus  speaks  in  a  letter  written  in  the  year  1793. 
"  The  effect  of  my  ministry  in  the  vicinity  of  Olney  now 
appears  much  more  evidently  than  when  I  left  that  situa- 
tion :  and  this  encourages  me  amidst  the  manifold  discour- 
agements of  my  present  station.'' — I  believe  there  are 
comparatively  few  ministers,  really  having  their  hearts  in 
their  work,  who  do  not  find  their  situations,  on  one 
ground  or  another,  discouraging.  It  is  natural  that  it 
should  be  so  :  for  in  this  evil  world  the  Christian  minis- 
ter's employment  is  all  struggling  against  the  current. 
I  gladly  therefore  present  all  these  passages,  which  may 
tend  to  strengthen  the  hands  of  my  brethren,  and  may 
animate  us  still  to  struggle  on  :  and  I  consider  them  all  as 
laying  a  ground  for  what  I  regard  as  one  grand  lesson 
afforded  by  my  father's  history,  namely,  that  a  vcnj  din- 
cour aging  course,  properly  sustained ,  may  eventually 
prove  useful  beyond  all  expectation. — But  we  continue 
the  narrative. 

"  While  I  was  thus,  in  some  respects,  dissatisfied  with 
my  only  prospect  as  to  future  life,  on  my  return  home 
from  one  of  my  irregular  excursions,  in  September,  1783, 


1785 — 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY^.        213 

I  found  a  letter  from  the  Secretary  of  the  Lock  Hospital, 
written  in  the  name  of  several  governors,  saying,  that  it 
had  been  resolved  to  appoint  a  person  to  the  office  of 
morning  preacher  in  the  chapel,  and  visiting  chaplain  to 
the  patients  ;  that,  from  what  they  had  heard  concerning 
me,  they  were  of  opinion  that  I  should  be  a  very  suitable 
person  for  the  situation ;  and  that  it  was  their  request 
that  I  would  come  to  London,  and  give  them  the  oppor- 
tunity of  hearing  me. — Nothing  could  be  more  contrary 
to  my  own  views  of  what  my  peculiar  talent,  whatever  it 
was,  qualified  me  for,  than  this  proposal — except  as  the 
poor  patients  were  concerned.  I  therefore  wrote  a  very 
plain  answer,  stating  my  views  of  the  gospel,  and  my  de- 
termination to  speak  my  mind  in  the  plainest  language, 
wherever  I  might  be  called  to  preach  ;  and  my  conscious- 
ness of  being  totally  destitute  of  those  attractions  of  man- 
ner and  elocution,  which  such  a  situation  demanded.  My 
friends,  who  afterwards  saw  the  letter,  approved  it  much, 
except  the  last  clause,  in  which  I  consented  to  come  and 
preach,  if  the  governors  still  desired  it. — Accordingly  I 
did  go,  and  preached  two  sermons,  in  as  plain  and  faith- 
ful a  manner  as  I  possibly  could  ;  without  attempting  any 
thing  different  from  my  homely  style  in  other  places. 
I  really  thought  that  this  specimen  would  be  sufficient ; 
and  I  hoped  good  might  be  done  to  some  individuals,  by 
such  addresses  delivered  in  that  place. 

"  When  about  to  return  home,  (after  having  my  ex- 
pences  much  more  than  defrayed  by  individuals,  without 
any  charge  on  the  funds  of  the  charity,)  I  was  asked, 
whether  I  would  propose  myself  as  a  candidate  at  the  en- 
suing election?  I  answered  in  the  negative,  peremptorily. 
'  But  will  you  accept  of  the  situation,'  it  was  then  said, 
'  should  you  be  chosen,  without  proposing  yourself?'  I 
replied,  'I  c?innot  tell:   but  certainlv  not,  unless  that 


'314  1  UOM  QUITTINC;  OLNEY  [ChAP.   IX. 

choice  sliould  he  almost  unanimous.  Having  piTaoliecl  in 
the  chapel,  I  shall  now  return  home  :  and,  if  I  hear  no 
more  from  you,  you  will  hear  no  more  from  me.' — In  a 
few  weeks  the  election  took  place  :  no  other  person  was 
proposed  :  ;vud  I  was  appointed,  with  only  three  opposing 
voices.  This  was  unexpected  :  and  I  saw  more  and  more 
reason,  on  every  consideration  and  enquiry,  to  conclude 
that^  if  I  acceded  to  this  appointment.  I  should  he  plunged 
into  difficulties  and  trials  of  a  most  dismaying  nature. 
Yet  I  did  not  dare  to  give  a  direct  refusal,  without  taking 
further  advice  upon  the  subject.  It  might  he  an  opening 
to  more  enlarged  usefulness  :  and  my  own  personal  feel- 
ings must  not  be  allowed  much  weight  in  such  a  case. — 
I  am  conscious  that  I  wished  to  know  and  do  my  duty  : 
and  1  went  agcdn  to  London,  on  purpose  to  considt  such 
ministers  as  I  thought  most  competent  to  advise  me.  But 
most  of  those  whom  I  consulted,  assuming,  g?^owidkssfi/n 
that  I  was  bent  on  coming,  did  not  think  it  worth  while 
to  waste  counsel  (as  they  supposed,)  on  one  who  would 
not  take  it.  Their  objections  were  suppressed  till  the 
die  w^as  cast ;  and  then  I  heard  them  in  abundance.  Mr. 
Robinson  of  Leicester,  indeed,  to  whom  I  wrote,  gave 
me  his  sentiments  faithfully  and  unreservedly  ;  stating 
every  objection  strongly,  yet  not  absolutely  deciding  that 
they  ought  to  prevail. 

^'  Here  I  must  observe,  that  it  is  a  very  great  fault,  and 
instance  of  unfaithfulness,  especially  in  senior  ministei^s, 
when,  from  a  supposition  that  a  person  who  consults  them 
has  already  made  up  his  mind,  they  decline  giving  him 
their  plain  and  honest  opinion.  This  leads  inexperienced 
persons  to  conclude  that,  as  little  or  no  objection  is  made, 
the  proposed  measure  is  approved  by  those  who  are  con- 
sulted, and  has  their  sanction.  Yet,  as,  in  many  instances, 
respectable  men  find  that  their  advice  is  not  followed. 


1785 1788.]  TO   COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.     215 

and  in  few  is  received  with  implicit  submission ;  they  often 
consider  themselves  justified  in  withholding  counsel  from 
those  who  ask  it.  Now^  not  as  one  requiring  advice,  but 
as  one  that  has  been  long  in  the  habit  of  giving  it?  I  must 
say,  that  I  think  implicit  compliance  with  advice  given 
ought  not  to  be  expected.  If  those  who  seek  counsel  are 
willing  to  give  it  attentive  consideration,  accompanied 
with  prayer  for  divine  direction,  it  is  all  that  we  are  in- 
titled  to  look  for :  and,  even  if  this  is  not  done,  yet,  in 
giving  the  best  advice  in  our  power,  we  deliver  our  own 
souls :  whereas,  by  withholding  it,  we  render  ourselves 
partakers  of  other  merCs  sins  ;  and  much  of  the  blame  of 
that  conduct,  which  perhaps  we  severely  censure,  really 
belongs  to  us. 

"  For  myself  I  am  conscious,  that  I  was  fully  disposed 
to  give  to  the  most  faithful  advice,  about,  or  against,  ac- 
ceding to  the  proposal  of  the  governors  of  the  Lock,  an 
attentive  hearing,  and  careful  consideration  ;  and  the 
Lord  knoweth,  that  every  step  in  the  business  was  taken, 
on  my  part,  with  many  earnest  and  anxious  prayers  for 
direction  :  but,  not  finding  the  objections  urged  which  I 
had  expected,  I  began  to  consider  the  offer  made  me  as 
a  call  to  a  self-denying  duty  ;  and  was  really  afraid  that 
I  should  commit  a  great  sin  if  I  pertinaciously  refused  it. 
Had  I  heard  all  those  things  previously  to  my  consent, 
which  I  heard  subsequently,  I  certainly  should  never 
have  consented  at  all.  Thus  I  should  have  escaped  much 
distress :  but,  taking  the  whole  together,  I  now  think  I 
should  have  been  far  less  useful.^' 

This  subject  of  giving  advice,  and  of  what  may  rea- 
sonably be  expected  from  those  who  ask  it,  w^as  one  on 
which  my  father  frequently  spoke  ;  and  from  his  letters 
it  appears  that  it  was  one  which  he  early  formed  very 
just  opinions.     Thus  in  1773  he  writes  to  one  of  his  sis- 


-1<>  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  [ChAP.    IX. 

Ui's  :  **  I  shall,  I  hope,  ever  be  obliged  to  my  friends  for 
advice,  but  I  do  not  promise  always  to  obey  it.  I  will 
promise  to  add  the  reasons  they  offer  to  my  own,  to  give 
them  a  vote  in  the  consultation,  and  at  last  to  let  the  ma- 
jority carry  the  day,  as  far  as  I  am  able  to  discern  it. 
That  is,  so  long  as  advice  serves  to  direct  my  own  judg- 
ment, I  shall  be  glad  of  it :  but  will  not  supersede  it.'^ 
Again  :  "  One  friend  gives  me  this  advice,  another  that : 
one  advises  me  to  act  in  this  manner,  another  directly 
contrary  :  and  what  am  I  to  do  ?  The  answer  is  plain  : 
Has  not  God  given  me  reason  ?  and  for  what  purpose, 
but  to  direct  my  conduct  ?  But  to  what  then  tends  ad- 
vice ?  To  inform  that  reason  :  and,  if  two  persons  give 
me  different  counsel,  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  act  (implicitly) 
according  to  either  one  or  the  other  ;  but  to  weigh  the 
arguments  on  which  they  are  both  founded,  and  to  act 
accordingly.'' — There  is  not  here  that  humble  appeal  to 
superior  direction,  which  he  would  never,  at  a  later  pe- 
riod, have  omitted  to  mention,  but  in  other  respects  the 
principle  is  the  same  as  he  ever  afterwards  maintained. 
— And,  if  this  be  a  just  rule  for  the  conduct  of  the  per- 
son asking  counsel,  it  forms  also  the  just  measure  for  the 
expectations  of  the  persons  giving  it.  In  this  way  like- 
wise he  early  applied  it.  In  1777  he  says  to  the  same 
relative  :  "  You  ask  my  pardon  for  not  taking  my  advice. 
This,  I  assure  you,  was  needless  :  for  I  gave  you  my  advice 
for  your  sake,  not  my  own,  and  should  be  equally  glad 
to  hear  that  you  succeeded  well  in  rejecting  it,  as  in  fol- 
lowing it.'*  And  again  in  1789  :  "  I  will  by  no  means 
agi'ee  that  you  should  implicitly  follow  any  advice,  which 
I  now ,  or  at  any  other  time,  may  give.  I  would  pro- 
pose hints,  and  assign  reasons,  and  then  leave  you  to 
think  of  them,  and  pray  over  them  :  which  is  the  best 
way  of  enquiring  of  the  Lord,  to  discover  his  will." 


1783 — 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.       217 

If  to  all  this  we  add  the  observation  of  the  wise  and 
holy  Halyburton^  that  "  the  promise  of  God,  to  direct 
our  stepSy  does  not  extend  always  to  teaching  others 
what  is  our  duty/'  it  may  reconcile  ns  to  persevere  in 
giving  the  best  advice  we  can  to  those  who  ask  it,  with- 
out requiring  or  expecting  to  see  it  implicitly  followed ; 
which  is  what  my  father  wished  to  inculcate. 

He  next  observes  in  his  narrative  :  ^^  A  circumstance 
which  had  considerable  weight  in  deciding  my  mind  was, 
the  hope  of  getting  one  who,  I  trusted,  would  prove  an 
able  and  useful  labourer  ordained  to  succeed  me  at  Olney.'' 
This  was  the  Rev.  James  Bean,  who,  though  the  pros- 
pect of  his  immediately  succeeding  to  Olney  was  not  re- 
alized, ^^  was  at  length  ordained,  went  thither,  and  be- 
came vicar  of  the  place  ;  was  useful  there,  and  very 
acceptable  to  my  friends  and  favourers  ;  but  ere  long  re- 
signed the  living  :  by  which  means  my  sanguine  expec- 
tations were  painfully  disappointed. — Still,  however,  I 
did  not  give  my  answer  to  the  governors  of  the  Lock  till 
the  last  day,  and  almost  the  last  hour,  allowed  me  for  de- 
liberation. 

^^  Whatever  others  judged,  my  own  people,  who  were 
most  attached  to  me,  and  most  grieved  to  part  with  me, 
were  convinced  that  I  was  called  by  providence  to  re- 
move, and  that  I  did  my  duty  in  complying  with  it.  I 
am  not,  however,  myself  to  this  day  satisfied  on  the  sub- 
ject. I  cannot  doubt  that  my  removal  has,  especially 
by  means  of  my  writings,  (as  far  as  they  have  been,  or 
are  likely  to  be,  useful)  been  overruled  for  good  ;  but, 
when  I  consider  what  a  situation  I  inadvertedly  rushed 
into,  I  fear  I  did  not  act  properly,  and  I  willingly  ac- 
cept all  my  unspeakable  mortifications  and  vexations  as  a 
merciful  correction  of  my  conduct :  which,  though  not, 
in  one  sense ,  inconsiderate,  yet  shewed  strange  inatten- 

2  E 


'ii^  FKOM  QUIITING  OLNEV  [ChAP.  IX. 

tionto  the  state  of  parties,  and  other  circumstances,  at  tlic 
Lock  ;  which,  had  1  duly  adverted  to  them,  would  have 
made  me  think  it  madness  to  engage  in  such  a  service." 

It  may  well  he  allowed  that  several  circumstances  at 
that  time  attending  the  situation  at  the  Lock,  coidd  they 
previously  to  experience  have  been  fully  realized,  might 
not  only,  with  good  reason,  have  produced  great  hesita- 
tion as  to  the  acceptance  of  it,  but  even  have  appalled 
a  mind  firm  and  courageous  as  my  father's  was.  To  be 
subject  to  the  control  of  a  board  of  governors,  many  of 
them  looking  only  to  the  pecuniary  interests  of  the  cha- 
rity ;  and  what  must,  if  possible,  be  still  more  adverse 
to  a  ministers  repose,  many  of  them  thinking  themselves 
both  qualified  and  intitled  to  dictate  as  to  his  doctrine  : 
this  must,  of  itself,  be  deemed  sufficiently  objectionable. 
Moreover,  the  board  was  then  split  into  parties  ;  such 
as  frequently  arise  when  a  concern,  once  prosperous,  be- 
comes involved  in  difficulties.  Still  further,  from  the 
different  character  and  sentiments  of  the  two  ministers, 
and  the  manner  of  my  father's  introduction,  the  chapel, 
and  even  the  pulpit,  was  'likely  to  be  the  scene  of  no 
less  division  than  the  board-room.  The  Lock  also  might, 
at  that  period,  be  considered  as  almost  tlie  head  quar- 
ters of  that  loose  and  notional  religion,  on  which  my  fa- 
ther had  commenced  his  attack  in  the  country.  Laying 
all  these  things  together,  and  taking  into  account  his  ob- 
scurity, and  the  humble  rustic  society  in  which,  almost 
exclusively,  he  had  hitherto  moved,  we  shall  cease  to 
wonder  at  his  last- recited  remark.  Still,  however,  con- 
templating the  consequences  of  his  removal  to  the  Lock, 
only  as  far  as  we  can  now  trace  them  ; — that,  without 
this  vStep,  we  should  never,  humanly  speaking,  have  had 
his  Commentary  on  the  scriptures,  (to  name  no  others  of 
his  writings;)  and  that    the    great  and  eft'ective   standi 


1785 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.       219 

which  he  was  enabled  to  make  in  London^  against  a  very 
meagre^  defective,  and  even  corrupt  representation  of 
Christianity,  would  never  have  been  made  :  when  all  this 
is  considered,  I  trust  we  may  say,  that  thousands  have 
reason  to  pronounce  it  a  happy  inadvertence,  by  which 
he  overlooked  difficulties  that  might  have  led  him  to  de- 
cline the  call  made  upon  him  ;  and  that  impartial  by- 
standers will  be  disposed  to  consider  "  the  unspeakable 
mortifications  and  vexations"  which  followed,  as  the  ne- 
cessary trials  of  his  faith,  the  preparatives  for  the  pecu- 
liar services  he  was  to  render,  and  the  requisite  coun- 
terpoise to  prevent  his  being  "  exalted  above  measure," 
by  the  flattering  celebrity  and  the  gi^eat  usefulness  he 
was  ultimately  to  attain,  rather  than,  as  he  himself  was 
ready  to  think  them,  the  corrections  of  a  great  impropri- 
ety of  which  he  had  been  guilty. 

His  narrative  proceeds  :  "  My  salary  at  the  Lock  was 
no  more  than  80/.  a-year,  nearly  40/.  of  which  was  ne- 
cessary for  rent  and  taxes*.  I  had,  however,  golden 
promises  ;  but  I  never  greatly  relied  upon  them  :  and  I 
became  more  and  more  convinced,  even  before  I  left 
Olney,  that  they  would  not,  in  any  measure,  be  realized. 
I  discovered  thact porti/  was  much  concerned  in  the  whole 
business  ;  and  I  said  to  my  family,  when  coming  to  town, 
^  Observe,  many  of  those  who  now  appear  to  be  my 
friends  will  forsake  me  ;  but  God  will  raise  me  up  other 
friendsf.^ 

*  My  father's  first  residence  was  at  No.  16,  Hamilton  Street, 
Piccadilly  ;  since  transformed  into  the  splendid  Hamilton  Place. 
At  the  end  of  twelve  months  he  removed  to  No.  2,  Chapel  Street, 
Upper  Grosvenor  Place  ;  in  which  house  he  continued  all  the  re- 
mainder of  his  time  in  London. 

t  It  is  amusing  to  me  to  recollect,  and  it  may  not  be  altogether 
ii;npertinent  to  mention,  that  the  text,  Prov.  xxvii.  14,  has  been 


220  FROM  QLITTING  OLNEY  [GhAP.   IX. 

^*  I  had  indeed  iniagiTicd  that  I  should,  without  much 
difliculty,  procure  a  lectureship  on  the  Sunday  afternoon 
or  evening,  and  perliaps  one  on  the  week-day  ;  and  1  stood 
ready  for  any  kind  or  degree  of  labour  to  which  I  might 
be  called.  But,  whilst  almost  all  my  brethren  readily 
obtained  such  appointments,  I  could  never,  during  the 
seventeen  years  of  my  residence  in  town,  procure  an) 
lectureship,  except  that  of  St.  Mildred's,  Bread  Street, 
which,  in  a  manner,  came  to  me,  because  no  other  per- 
son thought  it  worth  applying  for.  It  produced  me,  on  an 
average,  about  30/.  a  year.  Some  presents,  however,  which  I 
receieved,  addedconsiderably  to  its  value  during  the  last  two 
or  three  years  that  I  held  it.  For  some  years  also,  I  preach 
ed  at  St.  Margaret's,  Lothbury,  every  alternate  Sunday 
morning,  at  six  o'clock,  to  a  small  company  of  people,  and 
administered  the  sacrament.  The  stipend,  however,  for 
this  service,  was  only  7^.  6(/.  a  time  ;  though  I  walked 
about  seven  miles  in  going  and  returning.*' 

for  thirty-six  years  distinctly  impressed  upon  my  mind,  owing 
to  my  having^,  so  long  since,  heard  my  father  apply  it  to  the  then 
loud  and  ardent  friendship  of  one  of  the  governors  of  the  Lock. 
The  words  are  :  "  He  that  blesseth  his  friend  with  a  loud  voice, 
rising  early  in  the  morning,  it  shall  be  counted  a  curse  to  him." 
The  anticipation  was  realized  ;  and  the  friendship  of  this  gentle- 
man (who  died  many  years  ago)  soon  cooled  into  indifference. 

One  honourable  exception  from  the  number  of  those  persons 
who,  having  brought  my  father  to  the  Lock,  afterwards  deserted 
or  neglected  him,  is  entitled  to  be  mentioned.  I  refer  to  John 
Pearson,  Esq.  of  Golden-square,  for  many  years  surgeon  to  the 
hospital.  My  father  always  atrributed  more  to  the  arguments 
of  that  gentleman,  in  deciding  his  acceptance  of  the  situation 
at  the  Lock,  than  to  those  of  any  other  person  :  and  in  Mr.  P.  he 
found  a  constant  friend  to  the  end  of  his  life  ;  to  whom  he 
was  indebted  for  many  personal  favours,  besides  the  most  skilful 
professional  assistance,  promptly  and  gratuitously  rendered  to 
him  and  his  family,  on  the  numerous  occasions  which  required  it 


1785 178B.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.       221 

My  father  was  appointed  to  the  Sunday  afternoon  lec- 
tureship in  Bread  Street,  February  16,  1790,  and  re- 
tained it  till  he  was  chosen  sole  chaplain  to  the  Lock,  in 
March,  1802.  H^s  congregation  seldom  much  exceeded 
a  hundred  in  number  ;  but  they  were  attentive  hearers, 
and  he  had  reason  to  believe  that  his  preaching  there  was 
useful  to  many  persons,  several  of  whom  have  since  become 
instruments  of  good  to  others.  One  it  may  be  allowable 
to  specify,  whose  extensive  and  invaluable  services  may 
God  long  continue  and  abundantly  bless  to  his  church ! 
''  I  myself,''  observes  the  Rev.  Daniel  Wilson,  in  a  note 
annexed  to  his  funeral  sermons  for  my  father,  "  was,  fiy^ 
or  six  and  twenty  years  since,  one  of  his  very  small  con- 
gregation at  his  lecture  in  the  city  ;  and  I  derived,  as  I 
trust,  from  the  sound  and  practical  instruction  which  I 
then  received,  the  greatest  and  most  permanent  benefit, 
at  the  very  time  when  a  good  direction  and  bias  were  of 
the  utmost  importance — the  first  setting  out  as  a  theolo- 
gical student.'^ 

To  the  morning  lecture  at  Lothbury,  if  I  mistake  not,  he 
succeeded  when  Mr.  Cecil  became  unable  any  longer  to 
continue  it.  Though  a  scource  of  no  emolument,  this  too 
was  a  pleasant  service  to  him.  Few  persons  would  attend 
at  that  early  hour,  who  did  not  bear  a  real  love  to  the  or- 
dinances of  God's  house  ;  and  among  them  were  many  pious 
servants  and  others,  who  found  obstructions  to  attending 
public  worship  at  other  parts  of  the  day. 

In  adverting  to  these  lectureships,  at  this  period  of  his 
narrative,  my  father  has  somewhat  anticipated  :  it  may 
be  proper  that  I  should  so  far  follow  him,  as,  in  this  con- 
nexion, to  remark  the  extent  of  his  Sunday  labours  at 
that  time.  And  this  I  shall  do  in  the  words  of  a  lady  of 
highly  respectable  station  and  connexions  in  life,  who  re- 
peatedly passed  some  little  time  under  his  roof,  and  was 


222  l-ROM  Ql  ITTINGOLNEV  [ChAP.  XL 

particularly  struck  with  this  and  other  circumstances  of 
Iiis  habits  and  character.     She  writes  thus  : 

^^*I  must  now,  my  dear  sir,  assure  you,  that,  during  my 
])retty  long  wanderings  in  the  world,  even  in  the  best 
part  of  it,  I  can  truly  affirm,  that  the  various  seasons  I 
passed  under  the  roof  of  your  excellent  parents  are  marked 
with  a  peculiar  force  on  my  memory,  as  presenting  what 
came  nearer  to  the  perfection  of  a  Christian's  pilgrimage 
than  I  have  often  met  with  elsewhere.  And  this  remem- 
brance leads  me  to  express  the  hope,  that  you  will  not 
fail  to  give  the  precise  and  accurate  report  of  your  great 
father's  life  to  the  careless  and  idle  world.  My  oppor- 
tunities have  made  me  acquainted  with  such  diversities 
of  habits,  that  I  believe  the  information  you  can  furnish 
of  his  extraordinary  labours  w^ill  surprise,  as  well  as  edify 
many  a  weak  brother.  I  have  been  called  upon  solemnly 
to  attest  the  account  of  his  common  Sunday  work,  mental 
and  bodily,  as  almost  beyond  belief." 

This  address  led  to  the  request,  that  the  writer  would 
herself  put  down  what  had  struck  her,  as  an  occasional 
visitant,  more  than  it  might  have  done  those,  who,  from 
being  accustomed  to  it,  would  be  apt  to  pass  it  over  as  a 
matter  of  course.  The  reply  I  give  with  such  very  slight 
corrections  as  were  required. 

The  account  I  have  been  accustomed  to  relate  of  Mr. 
Scott's  Sunday  laboui^,  is  as  follows,  and  my  memory 
does  not  tax  me  with  inaccuracy.  At  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning  of  every  alternate  Sunday,  winter  as  well  as 
summer,  the  watchman  gave  one  heavy  knock  at  the 
door,  and  Mr.  S.  and  an  old  maid  servant  arose, — for  he 
could  not  go  out  without  his  breakfast.  He  then  set 
forth  to  meet  a  congregation  at  a  church  in  Lothbury, 
about  three  miles  and  a  half  off; — I  rather  think  the  only 
church  in  London  attended  so  early  as  six  q'clock  in  tlie 


1785 — 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.       223 

morning.  I  think  he  had  from  two  to  three  hundred  au- 
ditors, and  administered  the  sacrament  each  time.  He 
used  to  observe  that^  if  at  any  time,  in  his  early  walk 
through  the  streets  in  the  depth  of  winter,  lie  was  tempt- 
ed to  complain,  the  view  of  the  newsmen  equally  alert, 
and  for  a  very  diiferent  object,  changed  his  repinings 
into  thanksgivings. — From  the  city  he  returned  home, 
and  about  ten  o'clock  assembled  bis  family  to  prayers  : 
immediately  after  which  he  proceeded  to  the  chapel, 
where  he  performed  the  whole  service,  with  the  admin- 
istration of  the  sacrament  on  the  alternate  Sundays, 
when  he  did  not  go  to  Lothbury.  His  sermons,  you 
know,  were  most  ingeniously  brought  into  an  exact  hour  ; 
just  about  the  same  time,  as  I  have  heard  him  say,  being 
spent  in  composing  them.  I  well  remember  accompany- 
ing him  to  the  afternoon  church  in  Bread  Sreet,  (nearly 
as  far  as  Lothbury,)  after  his  taking  his  dinner  without 
sitting  down.  On  this  occasion  I  hired  a  hackney-coach  : 
but  he  desired  me  not  to  speak,  as  he  took  that  time  to 
prepare  his  sermon.  I  have  calclated  that  he  could  not  go 
much  less  than  fourteen  miles  in  the  day,  frequently  the 
whole  of  it  on  foot,  besides  the  three  services,  and  at 
times  a  fourth  semroti  at  Long-acre  Chapel,  or  elsewhere, 
on  his  way  home  in  the  evening  :  and  then  he  concluded 
the  whole  with  family  prayer,  and  that  not  a  very  short 
one. — Considering  his  bilious  and  asthmatic  habit,  this 
was  immense  labour !  And  all  this  I  knew  him  to  do  very 
soon  after,  if  not  the  very  next  Sunday  after,  he  had 
broken  a  rib  by  falling  down  the  cabin- stairs  of  a  Mar- 
gate packet :  and  it  semeed  to  me  as  if  he  passed  few  weeks 
without  taking  an  emetic  !  But  his  heart  was  in  his 
work  ;  and  I  never  saw  a  more  devoted  Christian.  In- 
deed he  appeared  to  me  to  have  hardly  a  word  or  thought 
out  of  the  precise  line  of  his  duty :  which  made  him  som^e- 


224  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEV      [CuAP.  IX. 

what  ibrmidahle  to  weaker  and  more  sinful  beings. — His 
trials,  I  should  think,  (as  you  would  have  me  honest  with 
you,)  were  those  of  temper.  Never,  I  often  remarked, 
was  there  a  ])etition  in  his  family  prayers,  for  any  thing 
but  the  pardon  of  sin,  and  the  suppressing  of  corruption. 
— His  life,  and  labours,  and  devotedness,  kept  him  from 
much  knowledge  of  the  world  ;  but  the  strength  of  his 
judgment  gave  him  a  rapid  insight  into  passing  affairs  : 
and  upon  the  whole  I  should  be  inclined  to  say,  he  was 
one  of  the  W'isest  men  I  ever  knew. — You  know  more 
than  I  can  do  of  the  nature  and  habits  of  his  daily  life.  I 
can  only  say  that,  when  fatigued  with  writing,  he  would 
come  up  stairs,  where  the  Bible  was  generally  open,  and 
his  relaxation  seemed  to  be,  talking  over  some  text  with 
those  whom  he  found  there  :  and  I  can  truly  declare  that 
I  never  lived  in  a  happier  or  more  united  family.'' 

It  is  implied  in  the  above  account,  that  my  father's  ser- 
mons were  usually  composed  the  same  day  they  were  de- 
livered. This  was  literally  the  case.  For  more  than 
five  and  thirty  years,  he  never  put  pen  to  paper  in  pre- 
paring for  the  pulpit,  except  in  the  case  of  three  or  four 
sermons,  preached  on  particular  occasions,  and  expressly 
intended  for  publication  :  yet  no  one  who  heard  him 
would  complain  of  crudeness  or  want  of  thought  in  his 
discourses  :  they  were  rather  faulty  in  being  overcharged 
with  matter,  and  too  argumentative  for  the  generality  of 
hearers. — Indeed,  an  eminent  chancery  lawyer  used  to 
say  that  he  heard  him  for  professional  improvement,  as 
well  as  for  religious  edification  ;  for  that  he  possessed  the 
close  ai'gumentative  elo(pience  peculiarly  requisite  at  that 
bar,  and  which  was  found  to  be  so  rare  an  endowment. 

His  statement  concerning  his  pecuniary  resources  in 
London  (from  which  we  digressed,)  he  thus  concludes  : 
•'  Tiic  Loi-d,  however,  provided  for  me  very  comforta- 


1785 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.       225 

bly ;  though,  even  on  the  retrospect,  I  can  hardly  ex- 
plain or  conceive  how  it  was  done.  A  subscription  was 
annually  raised  for  me  at  the  Lock,  as  had  been  promis- 
ed ;  but  it  fell  considerably  short  of  what  I  had  been 
taught  to  expect,  and  a  great  proportion  of  it  came  from 
persons  who  had  no  concern  in  bringing  me  thither.  I 
might  mention  some  respectable  names  of  persons,  wholly 
unknown  to  me  when  I  came  to  town,  who  became  my 
liberal  friends ;  and  of  some  who,  though  they  always  dis- 
approved my  ministry,  and  avowed  their  disapprobation, 
yet  contributed  to  my  support." 

I  confess  it  is  with  some  reluctance  that  I  admit  these 
details  of  the  straitened  and  dependent  provision  made 
for  my  father,  in  each  successive  place  to  which  he  re- 
moved :  not  that  I  feel  as  if  any  personal  degradation  at- 
tended the  circumstance,  but  lest  it  should  seem  to  be  ob- 
truding upon  notice  private  affairs,  which  have  how  passed 
away.     Still  I  conceive  there  may  be  sufficient  reasons 
for  not  withholding  them.     They  present  one  part  of 
those  "  struggles  througn  life"  which  make  up  his  histo- 
ry.    To  some  they  may  surely  afford  occasion  of  grati- 
tude :  they  are,  at  least,  comparatively  rich.     Others 
may  derive  encouragement  from  knowing  that  my  father 
always  lived  comfortably,  though  litterally  he  did  little 
more  than  receive  ^^day  by  day  his  daily  bread."     All 
may  justly  be  stimulated,  while  they  see  that  such  nar- 
row circumstances  were  never  any  check  to  his  unwearied 
and  disinterested  labours  to  be  useful.     And,  finally,  I 
must  insist  upon  it,  that  such  circumstances,  borne  as  he 
bore  them,  ennobled  his  character.     Dr.  Franklin  has 
remarked,  that  it  is  "  hard  to  make  an  empty  bag  stand 
upright:"  but,  however  empty,  my  father  always  stood 
upright — ^not  with  the  uprightness  of  integrity  only,  but 
of  independence  : — I  do  not  mean  the  pride  which  refuses 

2F 


25^b  PROM  QUITTING  OI.NEY  [ChAP.  IX. 

to  receive  or  to  acknowledge  an  obligation,  but  tbat  firm 
rectitude  winch  will  not  sacrifice  judgment  and  principle  to 
any  consideration  whatever. — This  has  in  some  degree 
appeared  already,  and  it  will  appear  still  further  in  what 
is  to  follow. — We  turn  to  his  laboui's  at  the  Lock. 

^^  There  was  a  weekly  lecture  at  the  Lock  chapel,  on 
the  Wednesday  evening,  which  the  evening  preacher  and 
I  were  to  take  alternately.     All  circumstances  considered, 
I  did  not  expect  much  usefulness  from  this  service.     I 
therefore  intreated  the  acting  governors  to  allow  me,  in 
addition  to  it,  to  preach  a  lecture  on  the  Friday  evenings; 
the  service  to  be  altogether  my  own.     This,  after  some 
hesitation,  was  conceded.  The  congregation,  which  might 
be  expected  to  attend,  I  was  aware,  was  decidedly  Calvi- 
nistic  :  but  I  was  fully  determined  to  bring  forward  at 
this  lecture  (which  indeed  1  had  desired  almost  exclusive- 
ly for  thai  purpose,)  every  thing,  in  the  most  particular 
manner,  relative  to  the  Christian  temper  and  conduct. 
With  this  view  I  formed,  as  I  foolishly  thought,  a  very 
sagacious  plan.     I  gave  notice  that  I  would  lecture,  in  an 
expository  manner,  on  the  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians,  in 
order.     At  first,  I  was  very  well  attended,  my  congi'ega- 
tion  generally  consisting  of  more  than  three  hundred 
persons.     This  continued  while  I  was  going  through  the 
^more  doctrinal  part  of  the  Epistle  ;  though  I  applied  the 
doctrine  very  plainly  to  practical  purposes,  and  often  in- 
timated my  hope,  that  I  should  be  favoured  with  equal 
attention,  when  I  came  to  speak  more  particularly  on  Chris- 
tian tempers  and  the  relative  duties. — But  the  Lord  took 
theunse  in  hisoum  craftiness.  When  I  arrived  at  the  latter 
part  of  the  fourth  chapter,  the  alarm  was  spread,  though  I 
stamped  every  exhortation  strongly  with  anevangelicalseal. 
But  at  length,  when  I  preaohcd  from  the  fifth  chapter,  on 
the  words,  See  tJuitye  walk  circumspectly .  ^-f.  the  charge 


1785 — 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.      227 

was  every  where  circulated^  that  I  had  changed  my  priii- 
ciples,  and  was  become  an  Arminian  :  and,  at  once,  I  ir- 
recoverable/ lost  much  above  half  my  audience. — The 
Sunday  morning  congregation  also  greatly  decreased  :  dis- 
satisfaction was  manifested  in  the  looks  and  language  of 
all  the  acting  governors,  even  such  as  had  been  most 
friendly :  and  I  seemed  to  have  no  alternative,  but  that 
of  either  receding  voluntarily  from  my  situation,  or  being 
disgracefully  dismissed. 

"  I  had,  however,  no  place  to  which  to  retire  :  every 
door  seemed  to  be  shut  against  me.  On  this  emergency, 
amidst  very  many  interruptions,  and  under  inexpressible 
discouragement,  I  wrote  in  the  course  of  a  week,  aiid 
preached  on  the  Sunday  morning  following,  (November 
26,  1786,)  my  sermon  on  Election  fLnd  Final  Persever- 
ance. By  the  next  week  it  was  printed  and  ready  for 
sale  :  and  a  thousand  copies  were  sold  in  about  three 
days.  A  second  edition  was  printed :  but  the  public 
were  saturated,  and  few  copies  were  disposed  of. 

^^  While  I  was  preparing  this  sermon,  I  dined  with 
rather  a  large  party,  many  of  the  company  governors  of 
the  Lock,  and  zealous,  in  their  way,  for  Calvinism.  In 
the  evening  it  was  proposed,  according  to  custom,  to  dis- 
cuss some  religious  subject :  and,  being  really  desirous  of 
information,  I  proposed  a  question  concerning  the  precise 
boundaries  between  Calvinism  and  Arminianism,  respect- 
ing which  so  much  prejudice  against  my  ministry  had 
been  excited.  But  in  conference  they  added  nothing 
unto  me:  and  two  dissenters  excepted,  no  one  offer- 
ed any  thing  sufficient  to  shew  that  he  understood  the 
subject.  So  that,  when  I  concluded  with  my  own  re- 
marks, it  was  allowed  that  I  was  more  decidedly  Calvi- 
nistic  than  the  rest  of  the  company ! — This  was  suited  in 
one  way  to  gratify  me  :  but  it  was  still  more  calculated  to 


228  FKOM  QUITTING  OLNEY  [ChAP  IX^ 

convince  me,  that  I  was  placed  in  a  most  unpromising  si- 
tuation." 

I  well  remember  the  utter  astonisliment  which  my  fa 
ther  expressed  on  returning  from  the  ])arty  here  alluded 
to.  He  had  not  conceived  it  possible  that  men,  known 
in  the  religious  world,  could  have  allowed  themselves 
boldly  to  take  a  side,  and  to  talk  loudly  in  favour  of 
a  system,  of  which  they  scarcely  knew  the  outlines, 
and  the  grounds  of  which  they  were  not  able  to  ex- 
plain, still  less  to  defend. — It  is  much  to  be  hoped, 
that  so  instructive  a  record,  as  we  are  now  considering, 
will  not  have  been  written  in  vain.  That  some,  at 
least,  will  allow  themselves  to  be  put  on  their  guard 
against  being  scared  by  the  terror  of  a  mere  name  ; 
and  will  be  induced,  after  the  honourable  example  of 
the  Bereans,  "  to  search  the  scriptures"  concerning 
what  they  hear,  and  to  ask,  not  by  what  distinctive 
appellation  it  may  be  described,  but  whether  it  is  "  ac- 
cording to  the  oracles  of  God"  or  not. — It  is  to  be  hoped, 
also,  that  some  persons,  immersed,  perhaps,  in  secular 
business,  from  Monday  morning  till  Saturday  night,  mafy 
be  induced  to  doubt  whether  they  are  quite  so  well  qua- 
lified to  decide  upon  difficult  theological  questions,  as 
they  may  have  taken  it  for  granted  that  they  were. 

I  fear  it  is  but  too  obvious,  with  respect  to  many  of  the 
numbers  who  were  '^  irrevocably"  driven  from  the  Lock, 
when  my  father  proceeded  to  unfold  and  apply  thr 
parts  of  St.  Paul's  writings  which  treat  of  ''  Christian 
tempers  and  relative  duties,"  that  their  real  objection 
was  not  to  Arminianism,  (of  which  they  very  probably 
scarcely  knew  the  meaning,)  but  to  half,  or  mare  than 
half^  the  word  of  God.  They  had  been  accustomed  to 
overlook  it  themselves,  and  could  not  bear  to  have  it 
pressed  upon  their  notice  by  another. 


1785 1788.]    TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.     229 

My  father  continues  :  "  I  had  at  this  time  many  in- 
structors as  to  my  style  of  preaching ;  and  some  at  the 
Lock  board  assumed  rather  a  high  tone  of  authority  : 
while  others  were  disposed  to  counsel  me  as  the  messen- 
gers of  Ahab  did  Michaiah.*  But  I  disposed  of  the  dic- 
tating instruction  very  shortly.  *•  Gentlemen/  I  said^ 
'  you  possess  authority  sufficient  to  change  me  for  ano- 
ther preacher,  whenever  you  please ;  but  you  have  no 
power  to  change  me  into  another  preacher.  If  you  do 
not  convince  my  understanding  that  I  am  in  an  error, 
you  can  never  induce  me  to  alter  my  method  of  preach- 
ing.' 

^^The  vexations,  however,  which  I  continually  ex- 
perienced, often  overcame  for  a  time  my  patience  and  for- 
titude. On  one  occasion  they  led  me  to  say  to  my  wife, 
^  Whatever  be  the  consequence,  I  will  quit  this  situation ; 
for  I  shall  never  have  any  peace  in  it.'  She  promptly 
answered  :  '  Take  heed  what  you  do  :  if  you  leave  your 
station  in  this  spirit,  you  will  perhaps  soon  be  with  Jonah 
in  the  whale's  belly.'  The  check  was  seasonable,  and 
procured  my  acquiesence. 

"  Various  plans  were  devised  to  counteract  the  declen- 
sion of  the  congregation,  consequent  on  my  increasing  un- 
popularity. Among  others  a  preacher  of  some  name  of- 
fered, when  in  town,  to  take  the  Sunday  morning  sermon 
gratuitously ;  and  this  was  proposed  to  me  with  assurances 
that  my  income  should  suffer  no  diminution.  I  answered, 
^  Gentlemen,  I  came  hither  for  the  work,  and  not  for  the 
wages  ;  and  if  you  take  that  from  me,  I  will  certainly  go 
and  seek  employment  elsewhere.'  This  disconcerted  the 
plan ;  which  was,  however,  abandoned  chiefly  through 
the  interposition  of  the  Earl  of  Dartmouth  (a  constant  at- 

*   I  Kings  xxii.  IS,  14. 


^30  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  [ClIAP.    IX. 

teiulant  on  the  morning  service  at  the  Lock.)  who  re- 
marked, '  That  he  tliought  it  would  be  better  for  the  gen- 
tleman in  cpiestion  to  reside  on  his  living,  and  attend 
to  liis  own  flock,  than  to  intermeddle  with  other  men's 
labours  :  and  that,  if  the  present  preachers  in  the  chapel 
w^ere  incompetent,  it  might  be  proper  to  dismiss  them, 
but  not  in  so  disgraceful  a  manner  to  supei^ede  either  the 
one  or  the  other  of  them.' 

"  Every  thing,  however,  conduced  to  render  me  more 
and  more  unpopular,  not  only  at  the  Lock,  but  in  every 
part  of  London;  and  numbers,  who  never  heard  me  preach, 
were  fully  possessed  with  the  idea,  that  there  was  some- 
thing very  wrong  both  in  my  preaching  and  in  my  spirit. 
Much  defect,  especially  as  to  manner,  I  am  fully  conscious 
of :  but  I  am  equally  consciovs^  that  I  did  not  give  way 
to  anger  in  my  ministry  ;  but  that  my  most  distinguishing 
reprehensions  of  those,  who  perverted  the  doctrines  of 
the  gospel  to  antinomian  purposes,  and  my  most  awful 
warnings,  were  the  language  of  compassionate  love,  and 
were  accompanied  by  many  tears  and  prayers.  My  most 
respectable  and  constant  hearers,  who  often  expressed 
dissatisfaction  with  my  manner,  and  with  my  dwelling 
disproportionately  on  certain  points  in  debate  ;  or  being 
too  severely  pointed  in  exposing  the  religious  .deficien- 
cies of  persons  of  fair  moral  character  ;  never  imputed  to 
me  a  harsh  and  angry  spirit  in  the  pulpit :  the  charge  of 
scolding  was  brought  against  me,  precisely  as  had  been 
the  case  at  Olney,  either  by  those  who  seldom  or  never 
heard  me,  or  by  those  very  practical  antinomians.  whose 
awfid  and  pernicious  delusion  I  endeavoured  to  expose. 

'^  During  this  time,  almost  my  whole  comfort,  as  a 
minister,  arose  from  my  labours  in  the  hospital,  which, 
with  all  the  disgusting  circumstances  of  the  service,  were 
far  more  pleasing  and  encouraging  to  me,   than  preach- 


1785 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.        231 

ing  in  the  chapel.  I  constantly  attended  twice  in  the 
week  ;  each  time  preaching  first  in  the  women's  wards^ 
and  then  in  the  men's.  I  took  the  plainest  portions  of 
scripture^  and  spoke  in  a  strain  of  close  address  to  the 
conscience,  and  altogether  in  a  manner,  which  I  could 
never  equal  in  any  other  place ;  and  so  as  always  to  fix 
the  attention,  and  often  greatly  to  affect  the  hearts,  of  my 
poor  proliigate  auditors.  I  concluded  each  address  with 
an  appropriate  prayer.  I  was  restricted  by  no  rules  : 
indeed  1  could  not  have  acted  to  my  own  satisfaction,  had 
any  been  prescribed  :  but  I  did  the  very  best  that  I 
could. 

"  I  soon  perceived  the  plan,  and  indeed  the  institu- 
tion itself,  to  be  utterly  incomplete,  as  far  as  the  female 
patients  were  concerned  :  as  they  had,  in  general,  on 
leaving  the  hospital,  no  other  alternative  open  before  them 
but  returning  to  their  former  course  of  life,  (which,  in 
the  great  majority  of  instances,  was  that  of  prostitution  ;) 
or  encountering  hardships  which  it  could  not  be  suppo- 
sed they  would  have  resolution  to  endure.  Direct  starv- 
ing, indeed,  cannot  in  this  country  be  a  frequent  danger  : 
but  to  prefer  the  frowns  and  reproaches  of  the  parish 
officer,  and  the  restraints  and  grievances  of  a  workhouse, 
under  the  most  unfavourable  circumstances  possible,  to 
the  ruinous  indeed,  but  for  the  moment  jovial  and  self- 
indulgent  life  to  which  she  has  been  accustomed,  is  more 
than  can  reasonably  be  expected  of  a  female  patient  just 
discharged  from  the  Lock  Hospital^. — It  could  not  then, 
be  hoped  that  these  women,  so  situate,  would  do  other- 

t  It  would  be  to  require  of  them  "  the  faith  and  constancy  of 
a  martyr  (in  steadily  preferring  the  greatest  hardships  to  a  ready 
relief  by  sin,)  in  the  very  first  onset  of  a  reformation."  My  fa- 
ther's Pamphlet,  1787, 


232  FKOM  QUITTING  OLNEY  [ChAP.  IX. 

wise  than  close  their  ears  against  all   instruction,   and 
every  admonition  which  called  them  to  so  severe  a  trial. 

"  Amidst  all  my  difliculties,  therefore,  I  formed  the 
plan  of  an  asylum,  into  which  such  of  these  unhappy 
ohjects,  as  desired  it,  might  be  admitted  on  their  leav- 
ing the  hospital.  I  wrote  a  pamphlet  on  the  subject, 
and  read  it  in  manuscript  to  Lord  Dartmouth,  Sir  Charles 
Middleton,  (since  Lord  Barham)  and  some  others.  Be- 
ing encouraged  by  them,  I  printed  it,  proposing,  at  the 
same  time,  a  meeting  to  be  held  for  the  purpose  of  taking 
the  subject  into  consideration :  and,  putting  it  under 
cover  as  a  letter,  I  left  it  myself  at  the  doors  of  most  of 
the  nobility  and  principal  gentry  in  town.  Being  so 
left,  it  was  generally  read  ;  and  the  result  is  known. 
A  meeting  was  held,  (April  18,  1787,)  the  Duke  of 
Manchester  taking  the  chair  ;  and,  with  much  difficulty, 
an  asylum  was  formed,  on  a  very  small  scale.  It  often 
appeared  to  me  that  it  must  be  given  up,  for  want  of  mo- 
ney to  defray  the  expences.  For  a  long  time  the  only 
return  I  met  with  for  my  assiduity  was  censure,  even 
from  quarters  from  which  I  least  expected  it :  but  I  trust 
several  immortal  souls  have  been,  and  will  be  saved  i)y 
means  of  the  institution. — I  cannot  doubt  that  the  very 
opposition  at  first  made  to  it  by  some  friends  of  the  Mag- 
dalen, who  afterwards  favoured  it,  occasioned  some  im- 
portant improvements  in  the  management  of  that  charity  : 
and  institutions  on  the  same  general  principle  have  since 
been  formed  at  Dublin,  Bristol,  Hull,  and  some  other 
places,  (not  to  mention  the  London  Penitentiary,)  in  res- 
pect of  which  the  letters  I  received  fully  shewed,  that 
my  little  attempt  had  in  some  measure  suggested  the 
idea  to  those  who  founded  them." 

The  reflecting  reader  will  not  fail  to  be  struck  with 
tJie  wonted  zeal  and  energy  of  my  father  s  mind,  as  dis- 


1785 — 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.      233 

played  on  this  occasion^  in  forming  and  carrying  into  ef- 
fect such  a  design,  while  he  was  yet  an  obscure  stranger 
in  London^  and  in  other  respects  very  disadvantageously 
situate. — During  the  whole  term  of  his  continuance  in 
town  he  acted  as  chaplain  to  the  new"  institution,  and  took 
the  principal  share  in  the  management  of  its  concerns. 
For  several  years  he  attended  daily  (without  any  remu- 
neration,) to  conduct  family  worship,  and  give  religious 
instruction  in  the  house  ;  and  he  constantly  had  a  ser- 
vant in  his  family  taken  from  the  asylum.  The  reports, 
drawn  up  by  him,  detail  many  instances  of  those  who 
were  not  only  reclaimed  and  restored  to  society,  but  evi- 
dently converted  to  God  by  the  means  thus  used  ;  and 
who  shewed  this  by  a  long  course  of  consistent  conduct, 
— terminating,  in  several  cases,  in  a  Christian  and  happy 
death. 

It  might  be  observed,  that  my  father  printed  an 
abridgement  of  his  Discourse  on  Repentance,  (forty  or 
fifty  pages)  and  gave  a  copy  to  each  patient  discharged 
from  the  hospital,  who  chose  to  apply  for  it.  He  also 
published  a  little  tract,  entitled  '^  Hints  to  Patients  in 
Hospitals,"  not  adapted  exclusively  to  the  case  of  those 
amongst  whom  he  laboured. 

An  extract  of  a  letter  written  by  him  in  May,  1789, 
may  be  properly  introduced  in  this  connexion.  It  may 
both  display  the  strength  of  his  feeling  upon  such  sub- 
jects, and  convey  an  useful  hint  to  more  than  one  descrip- 
tion of  persons.  It  should  be  remembered  that  it  comes 
from  one,  who  had  ample  opportunity  of  knowing  the 
truth  of  what  he  asserts. 

^'  By  no  means  let come  to  London,  if  you  can 

help  it.  I  look  upon  the  young  women  who  come  to 
London  for  places,  (a  few  prudent  and  very  clever  ones 
excepted,)  just  in  the  light  I  do  upon  the  cattle  that 

2G 


234  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY       [ChAP.  IX. 

come  to  Smithfiekl  market :  they  come  to  be  a  prey  to 
the  inhabitants.  I  wonder  any  of  those  who  have  not 
very  prudent  and  friendly  connexions  escape  prostitu- 
tion  At  every  offence,  girls  are  turned  out  of  doors 

with  a  month's  wages,  often  in  the  evening,  and  at  an 
hour's  warning.  They  have  lodgings  to  seek  :  a  set  of 
wretches  let  lodgings,  who  make  it  their  study  to  betray 
them  into  situations  from  which  few  escape.  Often  their 
clothes  are  stolen  :  if  not,  they  are  pawned  for  money 
to  pay  expences,  and  in  a  few  weeks  they  are  thus  strip- 
ped of  apparel,  and  can  go  to  no  place  at  all.  In  short, 
dangers  are  innumerable,  and  the  number  that,  without 
any  such  previous  intention,  are  seduced  and  become 
prostitutes,  and  perish  without  any  regarding  it,  is  incred- 
ible. It  is  shocking  to  me  beyond  expression  :  and  I 
think  I  should  leave  London  with  pleasure,  for  this  sin- 
gle circumstance,  did  not  a  sense  of  duty  at  present  de- 
tain me  :  but  perhaps  that  will  not  long  be  the  case. — 
But  all  will  be  well,  and  will  end  well,  for  them  that 
trust  in  and  serve  God." 

The  narrative  proceeds:  "  In  the  summer  of  1787  I 
visited  Olney  and  the  vicinity,  and  there  preached  a  ser- 
mon on  Phil.  i.  9 — 14,  which  I  afterwards  printed,  chief- 
ly for  the  benefit  of  my  late  people  there  :  but  it  has 
since  been  repeatedly  published,  in  an  extended  form, 
under  the  title  of  '  A  Treatise  on  Growth  in  Grace.' " 

The  visit  here  referred  to  was  not  the  first  which 
he  paid  to  his  beloved  people  in  Buckinghamshire  : 
he  had  been  with  them  in  the  autumn  of  1786.  Nor  was 
this  sermon  the  only  pi'oof  of  his  care  for  them.  From 
letters  to  a  princi])al  parishioner  at  Ravenstone,  I  find 
that  he  sent  them  frequent  supplies  of  books,  wrote 
them  pastoral  letters  adapted  to  their  circumstances,  and 
made  remittances  of  money  for  the   relief  of  their  tern- 


1785 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.      235 

poral  wants.     From  this  correspondence  I  shall  introduce 
some  extracts  in  their  proper  place. 

He  proceeds  concerting  his  publications  :  "  Having 
added  this  discourse  to  the  Force  of  Truth,  the  Treatise 
on  Repentance^  and  the  Sermon  on  Election  and  Final 
Perseverance  ;  and  finding  nothing  which  I  published 
sell,  even  so  far  as  to  pay  the  expences,  I  concluded  that 
I  had  mistaken  my  talent,  and  almost  resolved  to  print 
no  more.  Yet  I  had  much  spare  time^  and  I  found  little 
either  advantage  or  comfort  in  visiting. 

'^  For  some  time  I  had  frequent  invitations  to  meet 
dinner  parties  formed  of  persons  professing  religion  ; 
and  I  generally  accepted  them  :  yet  I  seldom  returned 
home  without  dissatisfaction^  and  even  remorse  of  consci- 
ence. One  day  (the  Queen's  birth-day,)  I  met^  at  the 
house  of  a  rather  opulent  tradesman,  a  large  party, 
among  whom  were  some  other  ministers.  The  dinner 
was  exceedingly  splendid  and  luxurious,  consisting  of  two 
courses,  including  every  delicacy  in  season.  Some  jokes 
passed  upon  the  subject ;  and  one  person,  in  particular, 
a  minister  of  much  celebrity,  said,  '  If  we  proceed  thus, 
we  shall  soon  have  the  gout  numbered  among  the  privi- 
leges of  the  gospel !'  This  passed  off  very  well  :  but  in 
the  evening,  a  question  being  proposed  on  the  principal 
dangers  to  which  evangelical  religion  was  exposed  in  the 
present  day,  when  it  came  to  my  turn  to  speak,  I  ventur- 
ed to  say,  that  conformity  to  the  world  among  persons 
professing  godliness  was  the  grand  danger  of  all.  One 
thing  led  to  another,  and  the  luxurious  dinner  did  not 
pass  unnoticed  by  me.  I  expressed  myself  as  cautiously, 
as  I  could,  consistently  with  my  conscience  ;  but  I  observ- 
ed that,  however  it  might  he  needful  for  Christians  in 
superior  stations  sometimes  to  give  splendid  and  expen- 
sive dinners  to  their  worldly  relations  and  connexions,  yet, 


236  FKOM  QUITTING  OLNEY      [ChAP.  IX. 

when  niiriistei*s  and  Christians  met  together  as  such,  it 
was  not  consistent;  but  sliould  be  exchanged  for  some 
frugal  entertainments  of  each  other,  aud  more  abundant 
feeding  of  M^/^oor,  themaimedj  the  lame,  and  the  blind. 
(Luke  xiv.  12 — 14.) — Probably  I  was  too  pointed  ;  and 
many  strong  expressions  of  disapprobation  w  ere  used  at 
the  time :  but  I  went  home  as  one  who  had  thrown  off  a 
great  burden  from  his  back — rejoicing  in  the  testimony 
of  my  conscience.  The  consequence  was,  a  sort  of  ta- 
cit excommunication  from  the  circle.  The  gentleman  at 
whose  house  this  passed  never  invited  me  again  but  once  ; 
and  then  our  dinner  was,  literally,  apiece  of  boiled  beef. 
— He  was,  however,  I  believe,  a  truly  pious  man, 
though  misled  by  bad  examples  and  customs.  He  always 
continued  to  act  towards  me  in  a  friendly  manner  ;  and, 
though  I  had  not  seen  him  for  several  years,  he  left  me  a 
small  legacy  at  his  death. 

"  By  these  means  I  had  still  more  unoccupied  time, 
which  I  did  not  well  know  how  to  turn  to  good  account : 
for  I  found  little  opening  or  encouragement  in  attempt- 
ing to  visit  and  converse  with  the  poor  ;  and  1  had  nei- 
ther the  same  views  of  preparing  for  future  service,  by 
study,  that  I  have  since  had,  nor  the  means  of  obtaining 
proper  books  for  the  purpose.  Yet^  in  one  way  or  ano- 
ther, I  was  always  employed." 

The  above  observations  lead  to  the  account  of  my  fa- 
ther's undertaking  his  commentary  on  the  scriptures. 
We  have  now,  therefore,  arrived  at  the  eve  of  his  com- 
mencing the  great  work  of  his  life  ;  and,  previously  to 
entering  upon  its  history,  it  may  be  advisable  here  again 
to  pause,  and  review  such  parts  of  his  correspondence 
as  have  come  to  hand,  illustrative  of  the  period  and  the 
subjects  which  have  already  passed  before  us;  and  of  his 


1785 1783.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.       237 

situation  and  proceedings  at  the  Lock  even  to  a  somewhat 
later  date. 

To  his  elder  sister  he  gave  the  following  account  of 
his  new  situation  and  employments. 

"  January  19^  1786.     I  can  form  no  manner  of  con- 
clusion  whether  this  removal   will  be  an  advantage  or 
disadvantage  to  my   secular  interest.     However  I  have 
acted  according  to  my  judgment  and  conscience^  and  find 
no  difficulty  in  leaving  the  event  to  him  who  saysj,  Seek 
first  the  kingdom  of  God,  &c The  Sunday  morn- 
ing congregations  are  large^  and  many  of  them  persons 
of  rank  and  fortune,  who  yet  approve  of  our  unfashion- 
able doctrines.  Ipreach  likewise  every  other  Wednesday 
evening,  and  every  Friday  evening  to  considerable  num- 
bers.   At  stated  times  in  the  week  I  visit  the  patients,  ex- 
plain the  scriptures,  and  pray  with  them.  They  are  in  gen- 
eral of  the  most  wretched  and  abandoned  of  the  human  spe- 
cies, many  of  them  common  prostitutes  :  yet,  remembering 
that  Jesus  himself  disdained  not  to  preach  to  such,  and 
told  the  proud  pharisees,  that  the  publicans  and  harlots 
entered  into  the  kingdo7n  of  heaven  before  them^  I  take 
pleasure  in  this  work,  and  expect  much  good  from  it ; 
and  I  find  the  poor  wretches  exceedingly  attentive,  and 
very  much  affected.     Jesus  Christ  is  able  to  save  to  the 
uttermost  all  them  that  come  to  God  by  him  ;  and  him 
that  Cometh  unto  him,  he  will  in  no  wise  cast  out.     No- 
thing is  wanting  but  to  convince  them  all  of  their  need  of 
such  a  Saviour. — About  seven  hundred  of  these  poor 
creatures  pass  through  the  hospital  in  the  course  of  a 
year.     So  you  see  I  have  some  work,  but  I  want  more." 

A  letter  to  his  younger  sister.  May  6,  1786,  notices  a 
publication  which  has  not  been  mentioned  in  the  narra- 
tive.    "  Dr.  Conyers  of  Deptford  (a  very  excellent  min- 


238 


FROM  qun  T1N(;  OLNEY  [ClIAP.  IX. 


b;ter,)die(L  almost  in  the  pulpit,  last  Snnclay  sennii^ht :  and 
last  Sunday  I  preached  a  Sermon  at  the  Lock  with  some 
reference  to  this  event,  which  I  have  heen  jipplied  to, 
from  a  respectahle  quarter,  to  commit  to  paper  ;  proba- 
bly for  publication.  This  must  be  done  immediately." — 
The  quarter  from  which  the  application  came  was,  I  be- 
lieve, the  late  John  Thornton,  Esq.  whose  friendship  my 
father  enjoyed,  and  whose  sister  Dr.  Conyers  had  mar- 
ried. 

The  case  of  an  orphan  niece,  in  a  precarious  state  of 
health,  gave  occasion  to  the  following  judicious  advice  in 
the  same  letter. 

^^  I  would  hope,  and  have  you  hope  the  best  of  her 
in  respect  of  spiritual  concerns  ;  but  would  have  her  fear 
the  worst.  Long  experience  convinces  me  that  no  mis- 
take is  more  common  or  fatal,  than  too  hastily  encourag- 
ing persons  under  serious  impressions  to  think  that  they 
have  already  passed  a  saving  change,  and  that  all  is  now 
well.  Representing  salvation  as  invariably  consequent 
upon  a  diligent,  humble,  persevering  application  to 
Christ,  in  prayer  and  the  use  of  means,  affords  a  sufficient 
stay  to  the  newly  awakened  mind,  keeps  it  attentive,  and 
spurs  it  on  to  diligence.  But  should  a  person  fcthely 
think  all  right,  this  persuasion  will  sooth  his  conscience, 
slacken  his  diligence,  and  lull  him  to  sleep.  Our  com- 
passion for  persons  under  concern  for  their  salvation  of- 
ten operates  in  this  manner.  But  a  skilful  surgeon  is  al- 
ways afraid  of  a  hasty  cure. — This  hint  I  know  you  will 
understand,  and,  in  speaking  to  your  niece,  will  take  care 
to  keep  alive  a  jealousy  of  herself. — I  hope  I  do  continue 
to  pray  for  her,  and  you,  and  all  my  relations.  I  have 
much  cause  for  gratitude  for  the  past,  and  encouragement 
for  the  others  ;  especially  as  I  am  continually  getting  aux- 
iliaries to  assist  me  in  praying  for  them.*' 


1785 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.       239 

To  the  Rev.  John  Ryland^  Jun.  Northampton,  now  Dr. 
Ryland  of  Bristol,  he  thus  writes. 

'^  May  24,  1786.  I  trust  I  can  truly  say  that  I  also 
have  the  welfare  of  all  the  friends  of  truth  and  holiness 
near  my  heart ;  and  I  know  but  few  in  my  own  line,  that 
I  feel  more  cordially  united  to,  than  yourself,  Mr.  Fuller, 
and  Mr,  Symmonds."^  I  hear  also  that  you  all  have  your 
trials,  and  did  I  not  hear,  I  should  suppose  it  as  a  thing 
of  course ;  because  I  trust  the  Lord  loves  you,  and  in- 
tends to  make  use  of  you  :  and  the  devil  hates  you,  and 
fears  the  effects  of  your  goings  on.  From  both  these 
causes  trials  must  spring  :  but  here  lies  the  difference,  the 
Lord  means  your  good,  the  devil  your  hurt :  but  the 
Lord  will  accomplish  his  design,  and  make  the  devil, 
sorely  against  his  will,  to  be  his  instrument  in  so  doing. 
I  have  not  readj  though  I  have  just  seen  R.  R.'s  sermons, 
who  seems  fast  verging  towards  infidelity  or  scepticism. 
The  Lord  preserve  us  from  the  pride  of  learning  and 
abilities.  If  we  once  think  ourselves  competent  to  un- 
derstand the  Bible  by  dint  of  our  own  sagacity,  and  skill 
in  languages  and  criticism,  without  an  immediate  and  con- 
tinual dependence  upon  the  teaching  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
we  are  within  a  few  paces  of  some  dreadful  downfall. 
Witness  Madan,  Withers,  (though  scarcely  worthy  to 
keep  such  company,)  and  R.  Robinson ;  who  in  their  se- 
veral publications  all  either  expressly  disavow,  or  tacitly 
pass  by  the  mention  of  such  a  dependence. — Your  intel- 
ligence from  New  England  is  of  another  sort,  and  right 
glad  I  am  to  hear,  that  now,  when,  by  other  accounts, 
the  enemy  is  coming  in  like  a  flood, — an  inundation  of 
Socinianism,  infidelity,  and  profligacy, — the  Spirit  of 
the  Lord  is  lifting  up  a  standard  against  him.  May 
he  revive  his  work  as  in  former  days  among  them ! — 

*  Of  Bedford. 


240  FROM  QUlTTlNCii  OLNEY  [ClIAF.   IX. 

J3ut  I  must  not  proceed  further  witiiout  answering  your 
kind  inquiries  alter  me  and  mine.  The  Lord  has  ena- 
bled me  so  to  conduct  myself  toward  Mr.  ,  that. 

though  tiiere  may  not  be  all  that  cordiality  which  might 
be  wished  for^  there  is  no  dissension,  nor  much  shyness. 
There  seemed  at  first  a  strong  and  formed  party  against 
me  among  the  hearers ;  but  I  believe  it  will  all  die  away 
of  itself.  Mr.  S.  has  withdrawn  his  assistance  from  the 
charity,  and  endeavoured  to  influence  some  others  :  butthe 
Lord  has  raised  up  new  friends  and  subscribers,  and  the 
charity  sermons  exceeded  expectation.  The  congrega- 
tion increases,  and  consequently,  we  suppose,  the  income 
of  the  chapel.  In  the  year  ending  Lady  Day,  1783,  the 
chapel  brought  in  760/.  :  the  year  ending  Lady  Day, 
1786,  it  brought  in  less  than  300/.  Had  the  income 
continued  to  diminish,  my  situation  would  have  been 
very  uneasy,  if  not  untenable.  But  the  promising  ap- 
pearances have  encouraged  my  friends,  stilled  my  ene- 
mies, and  brought  over  some.  At  the  same  time  my 
very  homely,  plain,  rough,  practical  preaching  is  re- 
ceived in  a  manner  more  favourable  than  I  could  have 
imagined.  Lord  and  Lady  Dartmouth,  and  a  few  others 
of  the  higher  ranks,  by  their  approbation  have  given 
a  sanction  to  it.  The  cry  of  Arminian  and  Papist 
was  raised,  but  soon  died  away.  Mr.  S.  wrote  twice  to 
me,  and  then  gave  me  up.  I  question  whether  all  the 
whole  number  of  governors  (two  or  three  excepted,)  are 
not  staunch  friends  :  if  not  out  of  love  to  the  gospel,  yet 
out  of  regard  to  the  charity.  As  to  success,  I  can  only 
say,  that  tliere  is  a  very  ])leasing  and  promising  attention, 

and  an  increase  of  numbers  :  many  of  Mr.  's  friends 

are  reconciled  to  my  preaching,  and  I  preach  in  many 
places  with  tolerable  acceptance  to  great  numbers.  And 
among  the  patients  I  hope  some  good  will  be,  and  is  done. 


1785 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.        241 

But  another  time  I  may  be  more  particular.  I  believe  I 
have  done  right.  I  am  glad  to  inform  you,  that  Mr. 
Foster,  and  several  others,  preach  fully  upon  our  plan, 
and  more  are  preaching  invitingly  and  practivally ,  Dr. 
Withers  gains  no  regard  here,  and  seems  to  sink  into  ob- 
livion. I  have  published  a  second  edition  of  the  Discourse 
on  Repentance,  with  some  additions,  in  which  I  have 
borne  testimony  against  some  of  his  sentiments  without 
mentioning  his  name.  I  hope  to  have  done  in  a  few 
weeks,  when  I  shall  perhaps  see  you.  We  are  all  tole- 
rably well,  and  send  as  much  love  to  you  all  as  can  be 
crammed  in.  Your's  affectionately, 

T.  Scott. '^ 

Another  letter  to  the  same  correspondent,  thongh  of  a 
later  date,  may  not  improperly  be  introduced  here,  as  it 
further  explains  the  writer's  views,  without  any  thing 
else  peculiar  to  the  time  at  which  it  was  written,  than  a 
slight  reference  to  his  Essays  then  in  the  course  of  publi- 
cation in  the  form  of  tracts. 

"  September  30,  1793.  The  little  Essays  sell  very 
fast,  and  I  hope  will  have  a  measure  of  usefulness.  How- 
ever, truth  is  the  only  seed  from  which  real  holiness  or 
happiness  can  grow  ;  and  unless  seed  be  sown,  we  cannot 
expect  a  crop.  Indeed  much  of  it  may  perish  in  the  ground, 
and  much  of  it  lie  dormant  for  a  longtime  ;  yet  our  busi- 
ness is,  in  every  way,  and  by  every  means,  to  be  sowing 
the  truth  according  to  our  apprehensions  of  it,  and  to 
trust  in  God,  and  beg  of  him  to  render  it  productive  by 
by  his  special  grace.  This  is  particularly  the  great  busi- 
ness of  a  minister's  life  ;  and,  though  we  often  may  seem 
to  labour  in  vain,  and  discouragements  may  be  needful 
for  us,  to  keep  us  from  being  exalted  above  measure^ 
we  shall,  I  trust,  find  at  last,  that  more  of  the  seed  sown 
was  productive,  than  we  in  general  supposed.     It  ap- 

2  H 


242  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  [ChAP  IX . 

pears  to  me  that  a  superficial  gospel  will  almost  always  at 
first  make  more  rapid  progress,  than  the  whole  truth  of 
revelation  solidly  proposed  to  mankind;  (except  at  snch 
seasons  as  that  which  followed  the  day  of  Pentecost :)  but 
then  these  superficial  effects  die  away,  and  gradiially  come 
to  little ;  whereas  the  less  apparent  effect  of  the  whole 
truth  abides  and  increases  permanently.  This  has  been 
remarkably  the  case  in  the  vicinity  of  Olney  :  the  effect 
of  my  ministry  now  appears  much  more  evidently,  than 
when  I  left  that  situation  ;  and  this  encourages  me,  amidst 
the  manifold  discouragements  of  my  present  station. — 
You  see  I  take  it  for  granted,  in  opposition  to  the  verdict 
of  a  vast  majority  of  London  professoi^,  that  I  have  the 
truth  on  my  side  :  and  indeed  I  have  so  long  and  so  ear- 
nestly examined  the  sacred  scriptures,  and  considered  the 
various  schemes  of  those  around  me,  with  fervent,  con- 
stant prayer  to  know  the  truth,  more  than  for  almost  any 
other  mercy,  that  I  scarcely  know  how  to  think  that  1 
can  be  mistaken  in  those  g?rtnd  matters^  in  which  I  differ 
from  so  many  modern  professors  in  the  establishment, 
among  the  two  descriptions  of  Methodists,  and  among  the 
Dissenters ;  for,  as  to  lesser  differences,  I  am  not  very 
confident,  and  am  probably  mistaken  in  many  things  ;  but 
not  willingly.  Yet  I  can  truly  say,  that  I  scarcely  ever 
hear  or  read  any  way  of  stating  doctrines  diflPerently  from 
what  I  adopt,  but  I  give  it  a  fair  examination,  and  seek  to 
know  the  mind  of  God  respecting  it ;  desiring  to  be  a 
learner,  that  I  may  be  a  teacher  to  the  end  of  my  life. 
In  general  I  accord  with  the  American  divines  :  and  yet, 
in  some  things,  I  rather  dissent  from  them  ;  especially  in 
that,  as  I  think,  they  rather  consider  what  true  religion 
is  in  the  abstract,  than  as  it  subsists  in  the  mind  of  such 
poor  creatures  as  we  are,  with  all  our  infirmities,  preju- 
dices, &c.  &c  :  in  that  they  sometimes  insist  on  the  ne- 


1785 — 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.      243 

cessity  of  seeing  such  and  such  things,  when  perhaps  many 
upright  souls  only  believe  them,  that  is,  allow  them  to  be 
so  on  God's  testimony,  though  they  cannot  see  them  so 
clearly  as  others  do  :  in  that  they  seem  sometimes  to  give 
too  little  encouragement  to  inquirers  :  and  in  that  they 
would  have  self-love  almost  excluded  from  religion ;  where- 
as it  seems  to  me,  that  it  is  a  part  of  our  nature  as  God 
made  us,  not  as  sin  hath  made  us ;  that  sin  has  only  per- 
verted it,  and  that  grace  recovers  us  from  that  perversion, 
and  brings  us  to  love  ourselves  wisely,  by  seeking  happi- 
ness in  God  and  not  in  the  creature  ;  in  which  exercise  of 
it,  it  perfectly  consists  with  the  supreme  love  of  God, 
and  equal  love  of  our  neighbour,  and  with  doing  all  to 
the  glory  of  God. 

"  When  I  began  to  write,  I  no  more  thought  of  this 
subject  than  I  did  of  filling  my  paper,  which  I  have  almost 
done.  However,  as  J  trust  truth  is  our  object,  and  as 
we  are  both  likely  to  be  placed  in  situations,  if  we  are 
spared,  in  which  we  shall  disseminate,  perhaps  widely, 
those  principles  we  deem  to  be  truth,  and  as  a  little  devi- 
ation may  sometimes  counteract  our  endeavours,  I  should 
not  be  sorry  now  and  then,  when  you  have  leisure,  to 
exchange  a  letter  on  these  subjects  ;  as  the  discussion  of 
them  may  be  mutually  useful  to  us.  I  am,  dear  Sir,  your 
affectionate  friend  and  brother,  T.  S.'' 

I  shall  next  lay  before  the  reader  some  extracts  of 
letters  to  his  late  respected  parishoner,  Mrs.  Godfrey, 
of  Ravenstone. 

"  December  20,  1786.  The  opposition  was  so  great 
against  me  here  in  town  since  my  return  from  Bucks, 
that  my  congregation  seemed  almost  gone,  and  other  pul- 
pits shut  against  me  ;  and  I  thought  it  scarcely  possible 
for  me  long  to  maintain  my  post  at  the  Lock,  or  in  Lon- 
don.    I  know  not  that  ever  I  was  so  desponding  about 


244  FROM  quittim;  olney  [Chap.  IX. 

any  thing  in  all  the  time  tluit  I  have  preached.  But, 
after  much  discouragement,  I  determined  to  make  another 
eftbrt,  and  hoth  to  explain  my  sentiments  to  the  congre- 
gation and  to  appeal  to  the  puhlic.  I  therefore  wrote, 
preached,  and  published  the  sermon  I  send  you  :  and,  I 
bless  God,  it  seems  far  to  exceed  my  most  sanguine  ex- 
pectations of  success.  Misrepresentation  seems  silenced 
affd  prejudices  diminished  ;  the  congregation  increases  : 
a  spirit  of  inquiry  appears  to  be  excited  ;  many  confess 
that  they  did  not  well  understand  the  matter,  and  that 
there  is  a  necessity  for  more  practical  preaching.  So 
that  I  trust  all  things  shall  tend  to  the  furtherance  of 
the  gospel,  and  to  diffuse  more  widely,  than  my  preaching 
extends,  those  views  of  Christianity,  which  I  have  de- 
livered and  you  received  in  your  neighbourhood 1 

have  nothing  to  add  to  the  exhortations  I  have  so  often 
given,  but  my  prayers  that  you  may  abound  more  and 
more.  The  notion  of  religion  goes  down  very  well,  but 
the  devil  and  the  world  hate  the  power  of  it :  therefore 
we  ought  to  love  it.  Give  my  love  to  all  your  family, 
and  to  all  the  dear  people,  along  with  the  sermons.'' 

"  January  25,  1787.  We  thank  you  for  your  present 
and  your  letter.  The  former  was  acceptable,  the  latter 
more  so;  for  it  reminded  me  of  former  times,  and  reviv- 
ed the  assurance,  that,  however  the  doctrine  I  deliver 
may  be  reviled  and  slighted,  it  is  indisputably  that  doc- 
trine, which  is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation;  as  the 
lives  of  many  in  your  neighbourhood  do  testify.  If  I 
should  exhort  you  all  to  go  forward,  and  abound  more 
and  more  in  every  good  word  and  work  ;  I  doubt  not  that 
you  would  in  return  exhort  and  incite  me  to  do  the  same  ; 
and,  notwithstanding  all  opposition,  and  regardless  of  all 
consequences,  to  preach  to  all  around  the  same  truths 
which  you  have  heard,  received,  feel,  shew  the  effects 


1785 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.        245 

of,  and  rejoice  in.  I  trust  the  Lord  will  enable  us  all 
thus  to  do.  But  it  is  grievous  to  think  to  what  a  degree 
the  blessed  gospel  is  abused  and  corrupted^  where  it  is 
not  openly  opposed  or  neglected  ;  and  what  numbers  are 
willing  to  hear  a  part  of  the  truth^  who  will  not  hear  the 
whole  of  it.  The  time  is  lamentably  come^  when  num- 
bers will  not  endure  sound  doctrine j  hut  turn  away  their 
ears  from  the  truths  and  are  turned  unto  fables.  How- 
ever^  I  have  reason  to  think^  that  neither  my  preaching 
nor  publishing  shall  be  in  vain. — We  have  numbers  of 
such  professors  as  Olney  abound  with  :  but  we  have  a 
remnant  of  another  sort ;  and  I  trust  they  are  increasing 
even  at  the  Lock.  The  post  is  very  difficult  and  preca- 
rious^ but  I  trust  that  it  will  all  issue  well.  I  have  need 
of  much  prudence,  patience,  meekness,  and  courage  ; 
and  therefore  you  have  need  to  pray  much  for  me.'^ 

"  June  28,  1787.  My  journey  (into  Buckingham- 
shire) was  very  encouraging  and  establishing  to  myself, 
and  I  hope  to  others  also.  I  pray  God  the  seed  sown 
may  spring  up  abundantly,  and  appear  evidently  in  the 
lives  of  believers,  and  in  the  conversion  of  sinners.  But, 
when  I  got  home,  I  began  again  to  struggle  with  my  dif- 
ficulties, and  seem  to  have  got  into  another  world, 
amongst  another  species  of  creatures  ;  religion  seems 
such  a  different  thing  amongst  them.  Yet  I  cannot  but 
hope  that,  in  process  of  time,  the  same  effects  will 
follow  as  have  in  your  neighbourhood.  But  I  am  often 
discouraged,  and  ready  to  think  I  shall  never  be  able 
to  keep  my  post,  or  do  any  good  in  it.  Then  again 
I  am  encouraged  :  and  all  this  is  to  teach  me,  that 
the  help  that  is  done  on  earth,  the  Lord  doeth  it  him- 
self.— Upon  the  whole,  every  thing  concurs  to  satify  me 
that  I  am  in  my  proper  place,  and  doing  my  Master's 
work,   and  preaching  the  truth  of  God,  (though  often 


246  FHOM  QUITTING  OLNEY      [ChAP.  IX. 

with  much  mixture  of  human  infirmity:)  and  that  it  is 
exceedingly  wanted  here,  and  that  nothing  else  can  recti- 
fy the  disorders  which  prevail  :  and  therefore,  if  this  doc- 
trine caiuiot  ohtain  a  hearing,  or  doth  not  produce  an  ef- 
fect, true  religion  must  be  extinguished  in  the  congrega- 
tion. But  indeed  London  is  such  a  mass  of  wickedness, 
and  even  religion  is  here  such  a  superficial  slight  matter, 
so  very  yielding  and  worldly,  that  every  thing  I  see  and 
hear,  as  well  as  what  I  feel,  is  grievous.  When  I  look 
into  the  Bible,  and  view  the  religion  therein  contained, 
it  is  so  pure,  so  beautiful,  so  divine,  that  I  long  to  see 
its  counterpart  on  earth  :  but,  when  I  look  for  it  in  this 
and  the  other  church,  or  denomination  of  Christians,  I 
seem  to  find  nothing  like  it ;  but  its  opposite  :  hatred  in- 
stead of  love,  pride  instead  of  humility,  contention  in- 
stead of  peace,  worldly -mindedness  instead  of  heavenly 
affections,  and  dissimulation  instead  of  sincerity.  Yet 
there  is  evea  at  this  time  a  remnant  occord'ing  to  the 
election  of  gi^ace^  and  many  more  than  the  eye  of  man 
can  discover.  God  saw  seven  thouvsand  in  Israel,  where 
Elijah  could  not  find  one.  This  is  a  consolation  ;  as  is 
also  that  promise  to  those  who  sigh  and  mourn  over  pre- 
vailing abominations,  though  they  cannot  cure  them. 
And,  if  there  are  so  few  true  Christians,  what  thanks  are 
due  to  the  Lord  if  we  are  such,  who  fire  by  nature  no  bet- 
ter than  others  !  What  diligence  in  making  our  calling 
and  election  sure  ;  what  activity  in  doing  good  ;  and  what 
patience  in  tribulation,  i^ejoicing  in  hope,  and  fervency 
in  prayer  ;  ought  we  not  to  aim  at !  And  how  welcome 
will  a  world  of  ])erfect  purity  and  love  be  at  last !  .  .  .  . 
We  shall  be  happy  to  see  you  when  convenient.  Mrs. 
S.  joins  me  in  love  to  you  all.  My  love  to  every  branch 
of  your  family  :  the  Lord  make  them  all  branches  of  his 
family  !     My  love  to  all  the  people  and  enquiring  friends. 


1785 — 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.       247 

Tell  them  to  love  one  another,  and  pray  for  themselves 
and  each  other,  and  for  me  !  With  sincere  affection  and 
prayers  for  you, 

I  remain  your  friend  and  servant, 

T.  SCOTT.'^ 

The  following  belong  to  a  later  period,  but  they  may 
be  introduced  here  to  finish  at  once  my  extracts  from  this 
series  of  letters. 

April  7,  1788,  he  proposes  to  send  "  one  or  two"  out 
of  his  twenty 'five  copies  of  his  Bible  for  the  perusal  of 
the  poorer  people,  who  cannot  afford  to  purchase  it. 

"  September  9,  1794.  I  am  too  much  engaged  in  dis- 
charging the  large  debt,  in  which  Mr.  R.'s  failure  has 
involved  me,  to  be  able  to  send  money  (as  I  otherwise 
meant  to  have  done,)  to  help  my  poor  brethren,  or  rather 
children,  in  Ravenstone  and  the  neighbouring  places  : 
but,  having  finished  my  Essays,  I  have  sent  twelve  copies 

to  be  sold,  and  the  money  given  away Should  they 

speedily  go  off,  I  shall  be  glad  hereafter  to  follow  them 
with  a  similar  present ;  wishing  that  I  had  it  in  my 
power  to  shew  my  sincere  affection  in  a  more  effectual 

way I  beg  all  who  regard  my  opinion  to  do  nothing 

hastily,  or  without  much  previous  prayer;  not  to  listen  to 
those  persons,  who  will  probably  attempt  to  make  divi- 
sions or  proselytes,  pretending  zeal  for  some  important 
doctrines  ;  and  to  endeavour,  as  much  as  possible,  to  keep 
united  as  one  body,  waiting  to  see  what  the  event  may 
be  of  these  changes ;  which  perhaps  cannot  at  present  be 
well  known.'' 

"  July  2,  1795.  The  very  high  price  of  bread  and 
other  provisions  continually  reminds  me  of  my  poor  peo- 
ple at  Ravenstone,  &c.  in  respect  of  their  temporal  pro- 
vision. I  have  not  indeed  much  in  my  power,  but  the 
Lord  gives  me  plenty  of  things  necessary  ;  and  I  think 


248  FROM  QUITTIVG  OLNEY  [ChAP.    IX. 

It  my  duty,  at  such  ii  tinu'  as  this,  rather  to  exceed  ordina- 
ry rules  in  hel])ing  others,  espexially  the  hovsehald  of 
faith :  and  none  liave  so  good  claim  on  me,  as  those 
whom  I  look  on  as  my  children  in  the  gospel,  and  who  I 
trust  will  he  my  crown  of  i^ejoicing  in  the  day  of  Christ. ^^ 
— He  sends  three  guineas,  and  proceeds:  ^^I  wish  I 
could  do  any  thing  more  effectual  to  relieve  the  pressing 
necessities  of  a  people  ever  dear  to  my  heart :  but  I  hope 
they  will  trust  in  the  Lord  both  for  temporal  and  spiri' 
tual  things,  and  that  more  entirely  in  times  of  troidile.  I 
recommend  the  sixty -second  psalm  to  their  consideration 
at  this  timc^  and  the  thirty-seventh.  Give  my  love  to 
them  all." 

"  February  14,  1799.  As  the  Lord  hath  in  pecunia- 
ry matters  been  very  kind  to  me.  in  an  emergency  when 
I  was  led  to  expect  great  difficulties,  I  think  it  my  duty 
to  make  some  acknowledgment,  by  contributing  a  little 
to  the  relief  of  such  of  my  brethren  as  are  in  poor  cir- 
cumstances."     He    sends  therefore    two    guineas 

''  My  heart  is  very  much  with  you,  and  I  do  not  always 
forget  to  pray  for  you  all  :  but,  in  this  and  all  other  good 
things,  I  am  too  apt  to  be  negligent." 

One  more  series  of  letters,  from  which  I  shall  give  a  few 
extracts  in  this  place,  presents  my  Mher  in  an  interest- 
ing connexion  with  the  British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society: 
not  indeed  with  its  actual  formation,  (which  was  many 
years  posterior  to  this  time,)  but  with  the  preceding 
events  which  led  the  way  to  it.  As  the  historian  of  that 
society  remarks,  "  The  primary  occasion  of  all  tliose 
measures,  out  of  which  grew  the  institution  of  the  Brit- 
ish and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  was  the  scarcity  of  Welch 
Bibles  in  the  Principality,  and  the  impracticability  of 
obtaining  adequate  supplies  from  the  only  source  existing 
at  that  period,  whence  copies  of  the  authorized  version 


1785 — 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.      249 

were  to  be  derived.'''  Accordingly  his  history  commen- 
ces with  a  correspondence^,  in  the  year  1787,  between  a 
clergyman  in  London,  and  a  brother  clergyman  in  Wales/' 
which  first  bro\jght  the  existing  scarcity  into  notice  in 
England.  This  London  clergyman  was  my  father.  Mr. 
Owen's  first  extract  is  from  a  letter  of  his,  dated  May 
15,  1787,  which,  it  will  be  seen,  implies  a  prior  commu- 
nication from  Wales.  That  communication  is  in  my 
hands,  having  accidently  escaped  the  destruction  to 
which  my  father  consigned  nearly  all  the  letters  in  his 
possession,  previously  to  his  last  illness  :  and  it  enables 
me  to  carry  back  the  history  of  these  events  one  step 
further  than  Mr.  0.  has  done.  It  is  dated  March  24, 
^nd  refers  to  a  still  earlier,  indeed  a  first  proposal  from 
my  father.  The  fact,  in  short,  was  this :  in  soliciting 
subscriptions  from  his  friends  in  aid  of  some  benevolent 
designs  which  his  correspondent  was  carrying  on  in  Wales, 
my  father  called,  among  others,  on  the  late  William  Daw, 
Esq.  of  Brompton  Row,  who  said,  '  I  have  a  few  Welsh 
Bibles  by  me' — or,  '  I  could  procure  some'  from  what  is 
now  denominated  the  Naval  and  Military  Bible  Society  : 
'  would  they  be  of  use  to  your  friend  ?'  In  consequence 
he  proposed  the  question,  and  the  reply  was  as  follows — 
probably  the  first  expression  of  urgent  want  which  was 
conveyed  to  London. 

"  March  24,  1787.  You  ask  me,  '  whether  a  parcel 
of  Welsh  Bibles  would  be  acceptable.'  You  could  think 
of  nothing  more  acceptable,  more  wanted,  and  useful  to 
the  country  at  large.  I  have  been  often,  in  my  journeys 
through  different  parts  of  the  country,  questioned  whe- 
ther I  knew  where  a  Welsh  Bible  could  be  bought  for  a 
small  price  ;  and  it  has  hurt  my  mind  much  to  be  oblig- 
ed to  answer  in  the  negative.  There  are  none  to  be 
bought  for  money,   unless  some  poor  person,  pinched  by 

21 


250  PROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  [ClIAP.  IX. 

poverty,  is  obliged  to  sell  his  Bible  to  support  himself 
and  family.  Mr.  Williams's  Bibles,  with  notes,  are 
some  of  them  unsold  ;  but  the  price,  18a'.,  is  too  high 
for  the  poor  to  command.  If  you  can  proc\ire  a  parcel 
of  them  for  our  poor  people,  I  am  sure  you  will  much  re- 
joice the  hearts  of  many,  and  do  them,  by  the  blessing 
of  God,  great  good.  I  will  promise  to  dispose  of  them 
in  the  best  manner  I  am  able  :  and  I  think  I  could  dispose 
to  very  good  purpose,  and  make  profitable  use,  of  any 
quantity  you  could  procure  for  me.'^ 

Uj)on  this  followed  those  letters  of  my  father's  from 
w  hich  I  shall  now  give  extracts. 

"  May  15,  1787.  Dear  Sir,  I  received  your  accept- 
able letter,  which  made  my  heart  rejoice,  and  caused  me 
to  render  unfeigned  thanks  to  God  in  your  behalf,  and  the 
people  in  your  neighbourhood  :  and  to  pray  for  a  still 
further  blessing  upon  your  labours,  and  those  of  your 
brethren.  May  the  work  of  God  both  sink  deeper,  and 
spread  wider,  till,  like  the  leaven,  it  leaven  the  ivhole 
lump  I  I  have  shewn  your  letter  to  several,  and  I  trust  it 
afl'ected  and  influenced  them  in  the  same  manner;  and 
also  in  another — for  silver  and  gold  I  have  none  to  give  : 
but  my  friends  have.  In  consequence  of  what  you  write 
concerning  the  scarcity  of  Welsh  Bibles,  I  have  received 
twenty-five  from  the  Society  for  distributing  Bibles 
among  the  soldiers  and  sailors.  .  .  .  and,  if  they  approve 
of  your  disposal  of  them,  they  will  send  you  some  more. 
Besides  this,  1  am  collecting  money  to  send  you  a  hun- 
dred. I  have  had  assistance  from  Mr.  Thornton  in  this, 
and  probably  shall  have  more.  ...  I  trust  this  will  be  an 
acceptable  present,  and  a  seasonable  supply  ;  and  I  hope 
many  prayers  will  be  offered  up  in  Welsh  for  my  friends 
and  myself,  which  is  the  only  recompence  vvc  desire,  and 
which  we  shall  highly  value. '^ 


1785 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.       251 

He  mentions  the  Lock  Asylum,  then  formings  and  adds ; 
''  Pray  for  a  blessing  upon  this  and  all  other  attempts  of 
your  poor  brethren  in  London  :  and,  though  we  are  so 
distant  in  situation,  yet,  being  all  engaged  in  one  war- 
fare, under  one  captain,  against  one  common  enemy,  we 
may  be  helpful  to  one  anothor  by  prayers,  exhortations, 
and  encouragements.  Let  us  therefore  endeavour  to  keep 
up  the  communion  of  saints ;  and  may  the  Lord  give  us 
wisdom,  holiness,  faithfulness,  and  usefulness,  and  at  length 
receive  us  with,  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servants  ! 
Your  affectionate  brother  in  Christ, 

T.  SCOTT.'^ 

June  11,  1787,  he  states  that  he  has  sent  the  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  Bibles  altogether  ;  and  that  the 
Asylum  is  opened. — "1  am  surrounded,''  he  says,  ^^dai- 
ly  with  pretty  much  the  same  sort  of  company  that  my 
Master  was,  Luke  xv.  1.  The  Lord  grant  that  I  may 
behave  among  them  in  some  good  measure  as  he  did,  and 
speak  to  them  with  the  same  success !  Most  people 
here  are  very  unbelieving  about  it,  and  think  no  good 
can  be  done  :  but  I  am  enabled  to  expect  great  things 
from  the  power,  mercy,  and  love  of  Christ.  I  would 
believe,  and  hope  to  see  the  glory  of  God  in  their  conver- 
sion. Indeed  I  do  see  some  good  fruits  ;  and,  though 
there  are  many  disappointments,  and  I  am  often  ready  to 
be  discouraged,  yet  upon  the  whole  I  think  1  may  confi- 
dently say,  good  is  done  :  and,  if  God  help  me  to  per- 
severe, and  neither  faint  in,  nor  grow  weary  of,  nor  act 
inconsistantly  with,  my  work  and  ofiice,  I  trust  I  may  ex- 
pect a  good  harvest  at  last. — We  have  raised  money 
enough  to  begin  with,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  have  tempt- 
ations to  any  thing  interested  or  extravagant.  At  pres- 
ent  I  have  refused  to  have  any  recom pence  for  my  trou- 
ble,   till  the  experiment  be  tried,  at  least ;  and  I  hope; 


252  FROM  QUITTING  OLNEY  [ClIAP.   IX. 

otliei*salso  will  be  as  disinterested  as  they  can.  I  would 
not  have  any  thing  to  depend  on  but  God's  providence 
and  promise.  We  want  nothing  so  much  as  the  pour- 
ing out  of  tlie  Holy  Spirit  tor  their  conversion  ;  and  all 
the  rest  will  be  provided  for  in  the  Lord's  time. 

"  You  rather  misapprehend  my  situation,  in  supposing 
that  I  have  multiplied  opportunities  of  preaching.  For 
my  great  benefit,  I  am  left  with  something  about  me  which 
is  very  unacceptable  among  most  of  the  professoi^  of  re- 
ligion. Some  things  requisite  for  popularity  I  would  not 
have,  if  I  could  ;  and  others  I  could  not  have,  if  I  would. 
This,  together  with  some  suspicions  concerning  the  ex- 
actness of  my  orthodoxy  in  the  point  of  election,  renders 
even  those,  who  love  me  the  best,  shy  of  asking  me  to 
preach.  But  I  feel  it  is  needful  and  useful  to  me,  and  I 
submit  to  it,  and  am  thankful  for  it  ;  for  my  proud  heart 
could  never  have  borne  popularity  properly :  indeed  few 
do. — I  trust  I  am  in  some  degree  useful.  I  do  the  work 
allotted  me  with  uprightness,  though  with  many  blunders; 
siiould  be  willing  to  do  more,  if  called  to  it ;  and  would 
be  submissively  out  of  employ,  if  the  Lord  appoints  that 
for  me. — My  lieart  is  with  you.  I  pray  God  to  prosper 
you  in  your  extensive  sphere,  and  make  you  long  a  burn- 
ing and  shining  light — a  useful  preacher  of,  and  a  bright 
ornament  to  the  gospel.  Begging  an  interest  in  your 
prayers,  I  remain  your  affectionate  friend  and  brother, 

Thos.  Scott. ^' 

January  12,  1788,  he  mentions  diffculties  in  the  way 
of  procuring  more  Bibles. — "  I  have  got  upon  a  new- 
scent,  but  know  not  how  I  shall  succeed.  If  we  should 
have  opportunity  of  buying  a  quantity,  how  many  dare 
you  engage  for  ? — You  need  not  doubt  my  willingness  to 
serve  you  or  your  people  :  but  at  times  a  man's  strength 
is  to  sit  stilly  and  wait  a  convenient  season.     But,  as  far 


1785 1788.]  TO  COMMENCING  HIS  COMMENTARY.     253 

as  I  can  with  propriety  procure  either  the  sale  or  gift  of 
Welsh  Bibles,  I  shall  count  it  my  privilege  to  send  them. 

^^  I  am  myself  very  busy,  very  unpopular,  and  a  little 
useful.  I  hope  to  see  greater  things.  Religion  of  a 
certain  stamp  is  very  fashionable  in  town,  and  I  get  much 
displeasure  for  opposing  fashionable  religion  :  but  I  trust 
God  is  with  me,  and  that  there  is  an  increasing  number 
of  helpers." 

April  30,  1788.  There  had  been  "  a  prospect  of  ob- 
taining, through  the  assistance  of  another  society,  and 
with  the  help  of  Mr.  Thornton's  purse,  no  less  a  number 
than  a  thousand  Welsh  Bibles  :  but,  alas  V^  he  says,  "  I 
have  only  waited  for  a  disappointment."  He  has,  how- 
ever, the  prospect  of  a  few.  "  I  should  have  been  more 
sorry,"  he  adds,  ''  at  the  disappointment,  did  I  not  know 
that  it  could  not  have  taken  place  unless  the  Lord  had 
had  wise  reasons  for  permitting  it." 

"  February  24,  1789.  If  no  unexpected  hindrance 
arises,  you  will  receive,  as  soon  as  they  can  be  got  ready 
and  sent,  another  cargo  of  Bibles,  one  hundred  to  give 
away,  at  Mr.  Thornton's  expence,  and  the  other  two  or 
three  hnndred  to  sell ....  I  believe  that  the  whole  im- 
pression of  Welsh  Bibles  is  now  nearly  exhausted  ;  and  I 
would  be  thankful  that  the  Lord  has  made  me,  almost 
without  any  thought  of  it,  an  instrument  of  bringing  a 
considerable  number  out  of  the  warehouses,  to  be  dissem- 
inated where  they  were  wanted." 

October  19,  1792.  A  further  supply  of  Bibles  had 
been  procured  through  another  friend,  and  he  says,  "  I 
trust  that  the  Lord,  who  hath  put  it  into  the  hearts  of  so 
many  in  Wales  to  love  his  holy  word,  will  also  put  it 
into  the  hearts  of  their  more  wealthy  brethren  in  Eng- 
land to  use  effectual  methods  of  supplying  them  with 
Bibles.     I  have  no  counsel  to  offer  ;  but  am  ready  to  be 


'■i54  I'HOM  (lUITTIKC;  01.NET,  cVc.  [ClIAP.  IX, 

t 

active  ill  the  good  service  in  any  way  I  can. — I  rejoice 
to  hear,  that  your  ])co|)le  go  on  well,  and  are  a  comfort 
to  you  :  and  I  think  I  do  led  more  willingness  than  for- 
merly, that  others  should  have  the  satisfaction  of  enlarg- 
ed usefulness,  and  I  the  mortification  of  much  disap- 
pointment in  that  respect." 

Letters  of  a  later  date  announce  the  new  edition  of  the 
Welsh  Bihle  in  1799,  consisting  of  ten  thousand  Bihles, 
and  two  thousand  additional  copies  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment ;  out  of  which  he  appears  to  have  procured  eight 
or  nine  hundred  copies  of  the  whole  Bihle  :  and  the 
correspendence  closes,  May  3,  1800,  with  observing, 
^'  The  demand  has  already  so  far  exceeded  the  impres- 
sion, that  each  person  is  put  off  with  fewer  than  he  appli- 
ed for,  and  thought  he  had  secured." 


1788 — 1S17.]  COMMENTARY  ON  THE  SCRIPTURES.      255 


CHAPTER  X. 

HIS  COMMENTARY  ON  THE  SCRIPTURES.— 
DEATH  OF  MRS.   SCOTT. 

^^  As  I  had  read  over  the  whole  scripture  repeatedly, 
I  trust  with  constant  prayer,  and  considering  how  almost 
every  verse  might  be  applied,  as  if  I  had  been  called  to 
preach  upon  it ;  I  had  often  thought  that  I  should  like  to 
preach  through  the  Bible  :  for  instruction  from  every 
part  crowded  upon  my  mind,  as  I  read  and  meditated 
from  day  to  day.  While  I  was  in  this  frame  of  mind,  a 
proposal  was  made  to  me  to  write  notes  on  the  scriptures, 
to  be  published,  with  the  sacred  text,  in  weekly  num- 
bers. On  this  proposal,  I  consulted  some,  who,  as  I  un- 
derstood, well  knew  the  persons  making  it,  and  were 
themselves  respectable  characters.  I  also  consulted  my 
own  friends,  and  certainly  made  it,  for  some  time,  a  con- 
stant part  of  my  prayers  to  be  directed  aright  concern- 
ing it :  but  I  am  convinced  that  I  did  not  deliberate,  con- 
sult, and  pray,  so  long  as  I  should  have  done  ;  that  I  was 
too  hasty  in  determining ;  and  that  a  great  mixture  of 
self-confidence,  and  presumption  of  competency  for  an 
undertaking,  which,  if  not  already  executed,  I  should  at 
present  tremble  to  think  of,  combined  with  my  desire  of 
being  usefully  employed.  I  had  hardly  an  idea  of  the 
arduousness  of  the  work,  and  of  the  various  kinds  of  ta- 
lent and  knowledge  which  it  required ;  of  most  of  which 


-50  tiOMMLNTAUY  ON  [ChAP.    X. 

I  was  at  that  time  destitute.  My  inclination  biassed  my 
judgment. — I  must  also  own,  that  a  guinea  a  week,  with 
some  collateral  advantages,  which  I  was  to  receive,  prom- 
ised to  be  no  unacceptable  addition  to  my  scanty  income  ; 
while  twenty-five  gratuitous  copies  of  the  work  would 
prove  a  useful  present  to  my  different  relations  ;  to 
which  purpose  I  actually  applied  them. — It  was  also  a 
gratification  to  my  active  mind,  that  the  proposed  work 
would  give  me  full  employment ;  which  I  most  of  all 
desired. 

'^  It  never,  I  own,  occurred  to  me  at  this  time,  that 
any  man  would  undertake  a  publication,  which  must,  at 
the  lowest  computation,  cost  2,000/.,  or  3,000/.  ;  and 
which  would  require  35/.  to  be  paid  down  every  week  ; 
relying  entirely  on  the  sale  of  an  incipient  Vvork  of  an 
obscure  author  to  carry  him  through  it !  This  proved 
that  I  knew  little  of  the  world  :  for  such  presently  ap- 
peared to  be  the  situation  of  the  projector.  Yet  none 
of  my  friends  cautioned  me  on  this  ground. 

"  After  having  proceeded  so  far  as  to  have,  beyond 
expectation,  the  most  encouraging  prospects  of  public 
acceptance  :  and  having  become  more  and  more  enthusi- 
astically fond  of  the  employment;  I  learned,  when  fif- 
teen numbers  had  been  printed,  that,  unless  money  could 
be  procured  from  my  friends,  the  design  must  be  aban- 
doned. I'he  pretence,  indeed,  was,  that  I  was  likely 
to  exceed  the  limits  proposed,  of  one  hundred,  after- 
wards extended  to  one  hundred  and  twenty,  numbers : 
but  it  was  manifest,  both  from  the  early  period  of  the 
complaint,  and  still  more  by  the  event,  that  the  money 
and  credit  of  the  publishers  were  exhausted. — In  these 
circumstances,  I  could  not  bear  to  think  of  dropping  so 
promising  a  design  :  and  I  had  not  courage  to  venture 
on  executing    it  on  my    own    account:  though    liberal 


1788 1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES,  257 

offers  of  pecuniary  assistance  were  made  me  for  that  pur- 
pose. The  best  object  of  my  undertaking  has  been  an- 
swered far  beyond  my  hopes  :  but  I  stumbled  on  the 
worst  plan^  as  to  secular  matters,  that  could  have  been 
adopted  ;  and  my  vexations,  and  distresses,  and  losses, 
have  been  a  merciful,  yet  painful  correction  of  my  rash- 
ness, presumption,  and  folly. 

"  It  is  not  worth  while  to  detail  the  particulars  of  my 
perplexities,  and  temporary  resources,  and  renewed  dif- 
ficulties, and  new  plans  ;  or  of  the  debts  which  I  con- 
tracted, in  order  to  support  the  sinking  credit  of  the  pub- 
lisher,— for  one  person  only  now  sustained  that  character, 
the  other  having  speedily  seceded.  Suffice  it  to  say, 
that,  by  the  help  of  friends,  and  by  sinking  some  legacies 
which  came  to  me,  I  supported  him  to  the  close  ;  though 
the  expence  far  exceeded  calculation,  and  indeed  what 
would  have  been  the  amount  in  the  hands  of  a  prudent 
and  solvent  publisher.'' 

The  cost  of  this  first  edition  (amounting  to  three 
thousand  copies  !)  was  not  less,  I  believe,  than  6,000/. 
or  7,000/.  The  publisher  reckoned  it  at  10,000/.  or 
11,000/. 

"  The  work  extended,  indeed,  much  beyond  its  pro- 
posed limits,  reaching  to  one  hundred  and  seventy-four 
numbers  instead  of  one  hundred  and  forty,  to  which  it 
had  been  fixed  :  but  all  beyond  the  one  hundred  and 
forty  numbers  I  printed  at  my  own  expence  and  risque ; 
and  all  beyond  one  hundred  and  sixty-four  I  actually 
gave  away  to  all  purchasers  of  the  work  who  would  ac- 
cept them  ;  though  that  portion  cost  me  much  above  200/. 

"At  the  close  I  calculated,  in  the  most  favourable 
manner,  my  own  pecuniary  concern  in  the  work  :  and  the 
result  was,  that,  as  nearly  as  I  could  ascertain,  I  had  nei- 
ther gained  nor  lost,  but  had  performed  the  whole  for 

2  K 


258  COMMENTARY  ON  [ClIAP.  X. 

notliing.  As  far  as  I  liad  lioped  for  some  addition  to  my 
income,  I  was  completely  disappointed :  but,  as  providence 
otherwise  supported  my  family,  and  upheld  my  credit,  I 
felt  well  satisfied  :  and  even  rejoiced  in  havinj;^  laboured, 
often  far  beyond  what  my  health  and  spirits  could  well 
endure,  in  a  work  which  had  been  pleasant  and  profitable 
to  me,  and  which  I  hoped  would  prove  useful  to  others. 

"  But,  alas !  much  beyond  my  expectation,  my  pecu- 
niary difficulties  were  only  commencing,  instead  of  hav- 
ing corwft  to  a  close.  Besides  printing,  as  has  been  al- 
ready stated,  ail  the  latter  part  of  the  work  (from  the 
beginning  of  St.  liuke,)  on  my  own  account,  I  had  ad- 
vanced the  publisher  more  than  800/. — a  sum  which  far 
exceeded  all  that  I  was  worth.  Still,  as  the  copy-right 
(which  is  in  such  cases  usually  made  the  publisher's,) 
had  been  mortgaged,  or  conditional iy  resold,  to  me  for 
security  of  this  money?  I  thought  myself  safe. — More- 
over, as  the  work  was  now  finished^  and  sold  well,  and 
the  publisher  had  for  some  months  been  exempted  from 
all  outgoings  on  account  of  it :  I  had  little  fear  of  his  being 
unable  to  stand  his  ground  :  and  hence  1  increased  my 
actual  loss,  which  followed,  by  declining  to  receive  some 
money  that  I  might  have  had,  because  I  thought  a  near 
relation  of  his  ought  to  be  relieved  from  the  serious  em- 
barrassment in  which,  1  was  told,  he  had.  involed  himself 
in  order  to  serve  him. 

"  Even  my  most  sagacious  friends,  and  those  more  con- 
V  ersant  with  transactions  of  this  nature,  were  of  opinion 
that  the  publishers  credit  was  so  low,  that  even  in  case 
uf  failure  his  debts  could  not  amount  to  any  large  sum  : 
but,  in  the  event,  on  his  executing  a  deed  of  assignment 
to  his  creditors,  (within  five  months  after  the  Bible  was 
completed,)  claims  were  made  on  his  estate  to  the  amount 
of  above  10,000/.     Still,  however,  with  the  latter  part 


1788 — 1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  259 

of  the  work  in  my  possession;  and  with  the  copyright 
pledged  to  me,  and  vested  in  me,  unless  redeemed  by  the 
payment  of  all  that  was  my  due  ;  it  appeared  to  me,  that 
I  could  have  come  in,  even  before  a  bill  of  sale,  (which  he 
had  given.)  and  have  secured  my  debt,  by  rendering  all 
the  former  part  of  the  work  of  little  value  without  my 
concurrence.  A  statute  of  bankruptcy  would  certainly 
have  left  me  the  copyright,  and  the  concluding  part  of 
the  work.  But  I  feared  that  thus  to  secure  payment  in  full 
to  myself,  while  scarcely  any  thing  was  left  to  the  other 
creditors,  would  appear  a  dishonourable  transaction.  I 
said,  '  I  can  go  on  with  my  ministry  creditably,  if  I  lose 
200/.  or  300/.  ;  but  if  I  lose  my  character  for  integrity^ 
or  even  bring  it  into  suspicion,  I  cannot.'  I  consented, 
therefore,  to  come  in  as  a  creditor  under  a  deed  of  trust, 
delivering  up  all  the  latter  part  of  the  work  in  my  pos- 
session, only  retaining  the  copy -right  irredeemably. — 
At  first,  some  creditors  were  clamorous  against  my  pro- 
posal :  but,  the  solicitor  employed  soon  shewing  them 
their  mistake,  my  offer  was  acceded  to  unanimously  : 
and,  at  the  close  of  the  business,  I  received  from  the 
w^hole  company  the  unavailing  compensation  of  thanks  for 
my  disinterestedness. 

''  1  at  first  supposed,  as  I  believe  the  other  trustees 
did,  that  a  dividend  of  7^.  or  8^.  in  the  pound  would  be 
obtained  :  but  I  never  received  more  than  is.  2d.  in  the 
pound  on  my  840/.,  and  that  after  long  delays. 

"  Thus  all  my  little  property,  arising  from  a  legacy  of 
150/.  from  a  relation,  another  of  100/.  from  John  Thornton, 
Esq.,  and  some  others  of  smaller  amount,  was  sunk  as  in  a 
vortex;  and  I  was  left  at  least  500/.  in  debt.  Host  full  500/. 
by  the  publication,  besides  all  my  labour,  and  200/.  given 
me  by  my  friends  in  consideration  of  what  had  occurred. 

^^  But  what  was  still  worse,  I  fell  into  discredit  as 


260  COMMENTARY  ON  [ChAP.  X. 

to  the  nianagement  of  secular  a/Fairs ;  of  which  I  felt 
the  effects  in  rather  a  mortifying  manner  a  few  years 
after,  when  tlie  trustees  determined  to  sell  off  all  the 
residue  of  the  edition.  This  I  could  have  purchased 
for  420/.  ;  and  I  was  morally  certain  that  it  would 
produce  me  more  than  twice  that  sum,  hesides  pre- 
cluding all  questions  about  the  copy  right  :  but  I  could 
not  raise  the  money.  At  least,  being  discouraged  by 
those  liberal  friends  who  had  before  assisted  me,  I  gave 
it  up  in  despondency, — or  rather,  I  trust,  in  resignation 
to  the  will  of  God ;  though  aware  of  the  consequences, 
and  constantly  affirming,  that  the  loan  of  420/.  at  that 
period  would  serve  me  more  than  the  gift  of  500/.  a  year 
afterwards. 

"  The  whole  residue,  together  with  the  copper-plates 
from  which  certain  prints  accompanying  the  work  had 
been  taken,  was  in  consequence  sold,  in  1798,  for  450/.* 
to  a  person  who  purchased  it  w  ith  permission  from  me  to 
reprint  as  much  as  forty-one  numbers,  to  complete  sets, 
on  condition  of  paying  me  an  acknowledgement  of  one 
guinea  for  each  number  reprinted.  This  condition,  how- 
ever, he  disregarded  ;  and,  on  the  ground  of  possessing 
the  copper-plates,  assumed  a  liberty  of  printing  at  his 
pleasure, — thus  virtually  advancing  a  claim  to  the  copy- 
right. No  bookseller  therefore  could  be  expected  to  en- 
gage in  a  new  edition,  unless  the  work  were  taken  en- 
tirely out  of  this  purchaser's  hands  :  which  led  me,  about 
afterwards,  to  inquire  the  terms  on  which  he  would  part 
with  what  yet  remained  unsold  ;  when  he  demanded  900/. 

*  In  a  letter  handed  to  me  since  this  sheet  was  at  the  press,  he 
says :  "I  would  rather  have  given  1000/.  could  I  have  raised  the 
money,  than  let  it  he  so  disposed  of.  It  was  like  the  execution  of 
a  dear  friend  ;  I  would  not  be  present;  and  I  believe  the  other  trus- 
tees did  not  take  all  proper  precautious  for  my  security." 


1788 1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  261 

for  it,  though  he  acknowledged  that  he  had  ah^eady  re- 
ceived douhle  the  purchase  money,  and  had  incurred  com- 
paratively little  expence  ! 

"  These  circumstances,  however  unfavourable  to  my 
temporal  interests  at  the  time,  have  proved  a  most  im- 
portant benefit  to  the  work.  Had  I  sold  it  to  the  book- 
sellers, as  I  should  have  done,  could  I  have  secured  it 
against  encroachment,  without  having  recourse  to  Chan- 
cery ;  I  could  hardly  have  failed  of  being  cramped  by 
them,  as  to  the  expensive  improvements  which  I  contem- 
plated :  but,  retaining  it  in  my  own  hands,  I  added,  in  a 
new  edition,  fifty  sheets  to  the  comment,  at  an  expence  of 
700/.  ;  besides  the  marginal  references,  which  cost  more 
than  1000/.  printing. 

"  Many,  no  doubt,  have  wondered  what  could  induce 
me  to  involve  myself  in  pecuniary  transactions  to  the  ex- 
tent I  have  done,  which  have  required  me  to  contract 
debts  that  I  have  not  yet  been  able  wholly  to  liquidate  ; 
and  to  struggle  w^ith  difficulties  beyond  the  conception  of 
most  persons,  and  wholly  beside  my  inclination,  and  my 
talent  and  turn  of  mind.  This  may  appear  the  more  ex- 
traordinary, after  I  had  firmly  declined  the  most  liberal 
ofl*ers  of  assistance,  to  enable  me  to  take  the  work  out  of 
the  original  publisher's  hands,  and  to  print  it  on  my  own 
account, — on  the  ground  that  this  would  so  occupy  my 
mind  about  pecuniary  concerns,  as  to  unfit  me  for  the 
work  itself.  But  the  fact  was,  I  had  now  no  other  alter- 
native left,  if  I  would  improve  the  first  rough  sketch  of 
a  work,  which  I  always  deemed  the  grand  business  of  my 
life.  I  must  either  leave  the  whole  to  be  reprinted  by 
the  person  above  referred  to,  sheet  by  sheet,  after  the 
old  edition,  according  as  one  number  or  another  might 
be  wanted  ;  or  I  must  have  recourse  to  Chancery — whicli 
I  greatly  dreaded  ;  or  I  must  print  on  my  own  account. 


i^62  COMMEM  ARY  ON  [ChAP.  X. 

which  1  knew  1  could  legally  do. — The  very  friends  also, 
who  before  declined  advancing  me  420/.,  now  offered  to 
lend  me  considerably  more;  and  some  others  concurred. 
The  booksellers  likewise  assured  me  that,  as  soon  as  the 
work  was  so  far  advanced  that  there  were  any  volumes 
for  sale,  it  would  pay  its  own  expences.  Thus  encouraged 
I  ventured  to  undertake  it. 

•"•  For  a  considerable  time  all  went  on  well  with  my  new 
edition.  The  sale  actually  answered  the  expenditure, 
though  that  was  little  short  of  1000/.  a  year  :  and  it  ap- 
peared probable  that  a  profit  would  accrue  to  me  suffi- 
cient to  reimburse  my  former  losses.  But  at  length  such 
an  enormous  rise  took  place  in  the  price  of  paper,  attend- 
ed by  a  considerable  advance  in  the  charge  of  printing, 
as,  together  with  the  additions  I  made  to  the  work,  caus- 
ed my  estimates  to  turn  out  nearly  lOOO/.  too  low  ;  and 
the  sale  of  the  whole  edition  scarcely  cleared  more  than 
prime  cost.  Indeed  every  page  I  added  increased  my 
expence,  without  at  all  advancing  the  price  of  the  book — 
which  had  been  fixed  from  the  first :  and  I  actually  paid 
at  the  rate  of  13/.  for  every  additional  sheet,  for  the  pri- 
vilege of  improving  my  work. 

"  To  conclude  this  subject  at  once.  I  have  been  fa- 
voured to  live  to  superintend  a  third  edition  ;  and  by  that 
I  have  fared  somewhat  better  :  but,  except  the  sum  given 
for  the  copy-right  since  that  edition  was  concluded,  I  cer- 
tainly have  not  cleared  so  much  as  1000/.  for  thelaboui^ 
of  above  twenty-one  years. — I  do  not,  however,  regret'this. 
(iod  has  provided  for  me  and  mine  very  graciously  :  by 
means  of  this  publication  my  grand  design,  of  accomplish- 
ing from  the  press  what  1  found  myself  little  capable  of 
efiecting  from  the  pulpit,  has  eventually  succeeded  be- 
yond my  expectations  :  and  I  needed  my  trials  and  diffi- 
culties, both  to  correct  the  many  evils  connected  with  the 


1788 1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  263 

undertakings  and  to  counterbalance  any  flattering  cir- 
cumstances arising  out  of  it.'' 

This  history  of  the  production  and  publication  of  my 
father's  Commentary  on  the  Bible  was  written  in  the 
year  1812.  Early  in  the  following  year  all  the  transac- 
tions relative  to  it  were  brought  under  the  review  of  the 
Court  of  Chancery,  in  consequence  of  the  person  who  had 
purchased  the  residue  of  the  first  edition  asserting  a  claim 
to  the  copy-right,  and  endeavouring  to  support  an  injunc- 
tion against  my  father,  and  the  booksellers  to  whom  the 
work  was  now  sold.  The  inj  unction  was  in  the  first  instance 
granted,  but  it  was  immediately  dissolved  on  the  case 
being  heard.  I  have,  in  some  parts,  a  little  enlarged  and 
cleared  up  the  narrative  from  the  report  of  the  proceed- 
ings on  that  occasion.  A  friend,  present  in  court,  wrote 
to  my  father  as  follows,  immediately  after  the  decision  : 
"The  Chancellor  went  into  all  the  transactions  very  mi- 
nutely indeed  ;  in  the  course  of  which  he  spoke  of  your 
conduct,  as  author,  creditor,  trustee,  and,  at  one  period, 
proprietor  and  publisher  of  the  work,  in  the  most  hon- 
ourable terms." — One  short  extract  from  the  printed  re- 
port may  be  given.  It  was  contended  by  counsel  against 
my  father,  that  one  of  the  agreements  into  which  he  had 
entered  with  the  original  publisher  was  "  illegal,  as  being 
a  laical  dealing,  contrary  to  the  canons  :''  on  which  his 
Lordship  remarked,  in  giving  judgment,  "Whether  it  is 
so  or  not,  I  am  not  now  called  to  inquire  ;  but  1  think  I 
am  not  going  far  out  of  my  way  to  say,  that  the  laical 
dealings  of  a  clergyman  can  never  be  less  the  subject  of 
blame,  than  when  they  consist  in  writing,  and  promoting 
the  circulation  of  explanatory  notes  on  the  Bible.'' 

Previously  to  this  decision,  besides  all  the  injury  he 
had  suifered  in  his  property,  my  father  and  his  publishers 
were  assailed  by  advertisements  and  pla- cards,  strongly 


264  fJOMMENTARY  ON  [ChAP.   X. 

reflecting  upon  their  character  and  proceedings.  But  the 
question  was  now  finally  set  at  rest^  and  the  work  has 
been  exposed  to  no  subsequent  molestation. 

This  great  work  of  my  father's  life  was  begun  January 
2,  1788  ;  the  first  number  was  published  March  22,  fol- 
lowing ;  and  the  last  copy  was  finished  for  the  press,  June 
2,  1792:  during  which  period  the  whole  was  twice  writ- 
ten over  by  his  own  hand.  One  great  error  committed 
w^as.  beginning  to  publish  so  soon  after  entering  upon  the 
composition.  This  caused  the  author  to  be  distressingly 
hurried  throughout  his  whole  progress.  Sick  or  well, 
he  was  obliged  to  complete  his  weekly  task  ;  except  as 
in  some  few^  instances  he  was  compelled  to  plead  for  a 
short  respite^  by  the  suspension  of  the  publication.  I 
have  actually  known  him^  with  great  difficulty  and  suf- 
fering, prepare  as  much  copy  as  he  thought  would  com- 
plete the  current  number^  and  then,  when  he  had  retired 
to  bed  and  taken  an  emetic,  called  up  again  to  furnish  more, 
what  he  had  provided  being  insufficient  for  the  purpose! 
It  is  needless  to  point  out  how  injurious  to  a  work,  as 
well  as  distressing  to  an  author,  such  a  hurried  execution 
must  be  ;  and  the  reader  will  agree  with  me  in  thinking 
it  surprising,  that  a  work,  so  composed,  should  have  been 
found  to  posess  such  intrinsic  merit,  and  gain  such  accep- 
tance as  it  did,  even  in  its  most  unimproved  state.  One 
effect  was  perhaps  on  the  whole  an  advantage — especially 
as  any  disadvantages  accompanying  it  have  been  removed 
by  the  authors  subsequent  indefatigable  labours — namely, 
that  he  was  compelled,  in  the  first  instance,  to  be  in  so 
great  a  degree  original  :  to  give  the  result  of  his  own  re- 
flections almost  alone.  There  was  little  time  to  consult, 
much  less  to  transcribe  from  other  authors. 

Some  time  after  the  conclusion  of  the  work,  the  origi- 
nal publisher  actually  printed  all  the  correspondence  which 


1788 1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  265 

had  passed  between  my  father  and  himself  during  its 
progress  ;  hoping  to  shew  that  he  was  injured,  and  per- 
haps to  drive  my  father  to  make  him  some  reparation  : 
but  I  believe  the  phamphlet  completely  defeated  its  own 
purpose,  with  all  who  were  permitted  to  see  it  entire. 

On  the  whole  v/e  may  venture  to  assert,  that  all  the 
labour,  vexation,  and  distress  which  attended  this  work, 
were  such  as  never  will  nor  can  be  known.  But  it  v»  as  to 
answer  important  ends :  and  great  troubles  generally 
precede  great  successes.  A  playful  sally  of  my  father's 
mind  may  explain  the  view  which  he  took  of  his  situa- 
tion, while  the  work  was  in  progress.  The  publisher  wish- 
ed that  the  author's  portrait  should  accompany  it :  '  No' 
said  my  father,  '  if  one  of  us  appears^^  we  will  both  ap- 
pear together, — upon  the  same  jaded  horse,  in  the  mid- 
dle of  a  miry  lane,  in  which  it  may  be  impossible  to  de- 
cide whether  it  is  more  advisable  to  push  forwand,  or  to 
attempt  a  return.' 

I  shall  now^  present  the  reader  with  extracts  of  letters 
relating  to  the  times  and  subjects  of  this  chapter. 

To  the  Rev.  J.  Ryland,  June  1,  1789  :  "  My  engage- 
ments are  so  many,  and  my  embarrassments  have  been 
so  great  of  late,  that  I  have  not  been  able  to  get  on  as  I 
ought.  Ny  situation  is  difficult,  but  not  without  its  use- 
fulness  As  my  coming  to  town  has  introduced  me  to 

this  (the  publication  of  the  Commentary,)  and  some  other 
things  which  I  trust  will  be  useful,  I  cannot  repent  of 
coming  :  but  I  much  question  whether  I  can  keep  my 
station  or  not.  I  have  made  a  bold  march  into  an  enemy's 
country  ;  and,  if  I  cannot  make  good  my  ground,  I  hope 
I  shall  be  able  to  make  an  honourable  retreat.  I  trust 
you  do  not  forget  to  pray  for  me,  for  I  much  need  and 

value  your  prayers." 

^  T 


266  Commentary  on  [Chap.  X. 

To  the  same,  Janunry  12,  1791. — The  following  ex- 
tract relates  to  a  small  publication,  which,  like  some  others, 
came  in,  as  by  a  parenthesis,  during  the  progress  of  the 
Bible. — ^'  I  have  been  so  engaged  that  I  have  almost 
killed  myself.  In  a  discourse  which  you  may  see  adver- 
tiz(  d.  occasioned  by  the  death  of  Mr.  Thornton,  with  no 
name  to  it,  and  that  never  was  preached,  (on  2  Cor.  v. 
14,  13,)  I  have  had  a  considerable  hand  ;  and  it  has  cost 
me  the  more  trouble,  because  I  had  not  the  whole  direc- 
tion of  it ;  though  I  am  answeralde  for  its  doctrines.  This, 
added  to  my  other  engagements,  has  made  me  more  than 
Work  enough,  and  I  am  not  well  at  present.  I  would 
not  have  it  publicly  avowed  that  I  am  the  author  of  the 
above-mentioned  discourse,  till  a  few  weeks  have  elapsed  : 
for  there  is  a  peculiar  aim  in  it,  at  a  class  of  people 

wloni  my  name  would  prejudice I  bless  God, 

that  I  may  take  it  for  granted,  that  the  laiv  of  God.  and 
not  the  carnal  mind,  and  its  powei^  and  inclinations,  is 
the  rule  and  standard  ot  man's  duty :  otherwise  I  could 
not  preach  or  write  without  shackles^  on  any  subject 
whatever.^' 

The  discourse  here  referred  to  was  composed  at  the 
request  of  the  late  Henry  Thornton,  Esq.,  who  also 
made  several  contributions  towards  it.  The  reasons 
which  prompted  the  proposal  were  these  :  Mr.  H.  T. 
was  sensible  that  many  persons  contemplated  the  charac- 
ter and  proceedings  of  his  late  father  with  astonishment, 
and  many  even  with  admiration,  who  had  no  just  concep- 
tion of  the  religious  principles,  which  moved  him  to  a 
course  of  conduct  so  unlike  that  of  men  of  wealth  and 
extensive  business  in  general  ;  and  so  much  exceeding 
the  ordinary  standard  even  of  more  serious  and  pious 
characters.  It  appeared  to  him  therefore  very  desira- 
ble to  explain  the  subject  to   such  persons  ;  to  take  to 


1788 — 1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.     '  267 

pieces,  so  to  speak,  the  machine  whose  movements  surpri- 
sed them,  and  exhibit  the  secret  springs  by  which  the  ef- 
fect was  produced. 

The  following  extract,  addressed  to  the  same  friend, 
on  finishing  the  Commentary,  will  not  fail  to  interest 
those  who  have  found  edification  in  the  perusal  of  the 
work  itself. 

^Oune  26, 1792.     I  have  had  my  hands  full,  and  my 

heart  too,  by 's  means,  and  am  not  likely  to  be  soon 

rescued  from  a  variety  of  concerns,  in  which  my  connex- 
ion with  him  in  this  publication  has  involved  me.     But 
he  that  hath  hitherto  helped  me  will,  I  trust,   extricate 
me  from  all   remaining  difficulties  :   and  it  was  needful 
that  the  whole  progress  of  the  work  should  be  stamped 
with  mortification,   perplexity,   and   disappointment,  if 
the  Lord  meant  me  to  do  any  good  to  others  by  it,  and  to 
preserve  me  from  receiving  essential  injury  in  my  own 
soul.     Four  years,  five  months,  and  one  day  were  em- 
ployed in  the  work,  with  unknown  sorrow  and  vexation  : 
yet,  if  I  have  the  best  success  in  the  sale  of  it,  I  can  ex- 
pect no  emolument  at  all,  except  the  profit  on  the  sets  I 
sell ;  whereas  I  may  lose  considerable  sums.      But  I  feel 
quite   satisfied   on   that  head  :  and,  if  any  real  good  be 
done  to  a  few  souls  by  means  of  the  whole,  I  am  at  pres- 
ent disposed  to  be  thankful,  even  though  I  should  lose  both 
money,  credit,  and  friends  by  means  of  it.  I  never  thought  I 
should  live  to  conclude  it ;  and  it  seems  to  me  as  a  dream 
now  I  have,  and  I  can  scarcely  think  it  a  reality.    Much 
Cause  for  thankfulness,  and  much  for  humiliation,  I  see, 
upon  the  review  of  the  whole  transaction.     I  meant  well^ 
but  I  engaged  hastily,  and   made  many  egregious  blun- 
ders :  yet  I  hope,  through  the  Lord's  goodness,  all  will 
end  well.     I  do  not  think  that  my  health  is  injured  by 
my  intense  application  ;  but  my  spirits  are  surprisingly 


'268  COMMIATAUY  ON  [CaAP.  X. 

broken  :  iiiid,  w Iicreas  1  used  to  ri«e  above  difliculties, 
by  a  certiiin  alacrity  and  stoutness  of  mind,  which  I  took 
for  strong  faith  and  much  patience,  I  am  now  ready  to  be 
alarmed  and  dejected  en  every  occasion  ;  and  have  shed 
more  tears  since  I  began  this  work,  than  probably  I  did 
in  all  the  former  years  of  my  life." 

In  this  letter  he  mentions  preaching  twice  one  Sunday 
at  Margate.  These  sermons  were  productive,  in  one  res- 
pect, of  rather  a  singular  result.  In  consequence  of  the 
absurd  representations  of  them  which  were  made  to  the 
Archbishoj)  of  Canterbury,  the  curate  was  called  up  to 
Lambeth.  Having  procured,  however,  of  my  father, 
written  sketches  of  the  two  sermons,  w^hich  he  submit- 
ted to  his  Grace,  no  more  was  heard  of  the  business. 

The  following  extracts  of  letters  to  his  elder  sister, 
relate  to  his  pecuniary  losses  by  the  Bible^  and  his 
state  cf  mind  under  them. 

^'  October  25,  1792.  I  was  w^orth  nothing,  except  my 
furniture,  when  I  engaged  in  this  work,  (the  Commen- 
tary,) and  if,  after  some  bequests  made  to  me,  I  should 
he  in  the  same  case  when  it  is  done  with,  I  may,  and  I 
hope  I  shall  say.  The  Lord  gave^  and  the  Lord  hath  ta- 
ken away  J  blessed  he  the  name  of  the  Lord. — I  might 
have  spent  my  time  more  unpleasantly,  as  well  as  unpro- 
fita!)ly,  than  in  the  labour  I  have  had  ;  which,  in  some 
respect?,  has  been  its  own  reward :  and,  if  any  human 
being  g(^ts  any  real  good  hy  it,  that  forms  an  additional 
reason  for  my  being  satisfied  and  thankful :  whilst  the 
manifold  evil  that  has  connected  with  the  whole  business 
requires  forgiveness,  and  excludes  all  idea  of  my  being 
entitled  to  any  reward  from  the  Lord  ;  and  I  must  be 
very  ignorant  of  human  nature,  to  expect  much  from 
men  for  such  an  undertaking. — I  thought  you  would 
wish  to  know  the  state  of  my  mind  under  what  may  be 
deemed  a  trial,  but  which  does  not  much  discompose  me. 


i788 1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  269 

I  have  a  fair  prospect  of  paying  all  their  due^  and  that 
satisfies  me.'^ 

In  1794  he  had  more  fully  ascertained  the  extent  of 
his  losses^  and  he  thus  writes  : — 

"  March  4.  If  I  said  that  I  was  sorry  I  had  written 
so  much  on  the  Bible,  I  own  it  was  my  infirmity  :  but  I 
do  not  recollect  that  I  ever  expressed  myself  so  strongly ; 
though  the  loss  of  all  my  little  property,  and  feeling  my- 
self encumbered  with  a  debt  of  300/.  or  400/.,  without 
any  thing  to  pay  it  except  a  very  precarious  income,  did 
try  me  for  a  time  very  sharply.  But  I  am  now  quite 
satisfied,  yea,  thankful ;  for  various  circumstances  more 
and  more  convince  me,  that  it  will  in  time  so  acqiure  sta- 
bility, and  produce  durable  good  effects,  that  I  am  aware 
mortifications  by  the  way  were  needful  for  me.  The 
Lord  has  also  peculiarly  favoured  me  this  year  ;  and  I 
have  emerged  at  least  200/.  from  my  depth  of  debt  within 
about  fifteen  months.  One  friend  made  me  a  present  of 
100/.  towards  my  loss.  So  I  say.  As  for  me^  I  am  poor 
and  needy y  but  the  Lord  careth  for  me :  and  I  have  at 
present  no  uneasiness  about  it." 

In  1798,  as  above  related,  the  residue  of  the  original 
edition  was  to  be  sold.  Having  stated  his  inability  to 
raise  400/.  for  the  purchase  of  it,  he  remarks :  "  The 
labour,  loss,  and  diequietude,  have  been,  and  are  mine  ; 
but  the  profit  must  be  given  to  others.  Yet  I  doubt  not 
this  is  ordered  in  wisdom,  faithfulness,  and  love." 

The  following  passages  relate  to  the  preparation  of  an 
entire  new  edition  ;  the  first  with  marginal  references. 
They  are  from  letters  addressed  to  myself. 

^^  March  14,  1798.  I  am  either  more  indolent  than 
formerly,  or  I  do  not  stand  work  so  well.  I  feel  a  need 
for  the  petition  wliich  Mr.  Whitefield  often  made,  '  that 
the  Lord  would  keep  me  from  growing  slack  in  the  lat~ 


-^70  COMMENTARY  ON  [ChAF.   X. 

tcr  stages  of  my  journey/ — I  every  day  however  correct 
something  of  the  Hil)le,  besides  ])reparing  the  Essays  for 
repii])lication,  teaching,  &c.  ;  and  I  feel  a  strong  desire, 
by  some  means  or  other,  if  I  am  spared,  to  have  the  pub- 
lisliing  of  it  in  my  own  hands,  when  a  new  edition  is 
wanted  ;  which  will  probably  be  ere  long.  1  seem  to 
think  I  could  make  great  improvements  :  and  I  am  more 
than  ever  convinced,  that  a  Family  Bible,  which  gains 
acceptance,  is  one  of  the  most  effectual  vehicles  of  antidote 
against  all  loose  views  of  the  gospel,  that  can  be ;  because 
it  gets  into  the  families  of  persons  who  have  any  serious- 
ness, even  where  public  teachings  lean  to  antinomianism  ; 
and  may  thus  greatly  counteract  the  effect.'' 

''  Febuary  23,  1800.  I  am  very  closely  engaged  in 
the  business  of  preparing  a  new  edition  of  the  Family 
Bible  :  indeed,  it  takes  as  much  mending,  thus  lar,  as 
it  did  writing.'' 

^^  March  3,  1800.  I  have  resumed  my  attention  to 
the  Hebrew,  and  read  every  part  in  that,  and  in  the 
Greek  ;  which  often  suggests  useful  hints  and  cautions. 
But  revising  tlie  references  in  Brown  (to  make  a  selection, 
to  be  inserted  chiefly  at  the  end  of  each  note,)  is  the 
great  labour  statedly  occurring." 

Before  this  month  elapsed,  he  informed  me,  that  he 
had  "  determined  to  have  a  selection  of  mai^ginal  refe- 
rences." 

"  October  29.  You  say  I  am  in  your  debt  as  a  cor- 
respondent ;  and  indeed  I  am  in  the  way  to  be  in 
every  one's  debt,  in  this  respect  as  well  as  others  ; 
and  here,  at  least,  to  be  insolvent.  I  must  however  not 
only  intreat,  but  demand  to  be  dealt  with  on  other 
terms  than  many  arc,  as  I  am  doing  a  grkap  um'h,  at 
least,  whether  a  good  one  or  not  :  and  I  find,  as  I  pro- 
ceed, so  much  wants  mending,  and  I  can  so  little  sa- 


1788 1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  271 

tisfy  myselfj  that  T  can  hardly  hope  to  satisfy  others. 
I  work  very  hard,  and  yet  I  do  not  get  on  at  the  rate  of 
more  than  a  sheet  and  a  half  in  a  week  ;  and  do  not  finish 
any  one  chapter  according  to  the  ideal  completeness  which 
I  had  framed  in  my  mind.  I  trust  the  work  has  thus  far 
been  improved  much  :  and  I  still  flatter  myself  with  the 
hope  of  getting  on  faster  presently,  and  of  reducing  some 
parts  into  a  narrower  compass  :  but  this  has  not  hitherto 
been  the  case.  The  language  is  throughout  abridged; 
but  then  new  ideas  are  added.  .  .  I  do  not  think  any 
of  you,  that  make  remarks  on  the  different  parts  of 
the  w^ork,  can  possibly  conceive  what  it  is  to  keep  the 
ivhole  in  view,  and  to  finish  any  chapter  as  a  part  of  this 
whole.  Had  I  known  and  felt  this  formerly  as  I  now  do, 
I  should  never  have  dared  to  engage  in  a  work,  for  which 
every  day  makes  me  more  and  more  feel  my  incompe- 
tency. Yet,  as  it  has  pleased  God  to  give  it  so  much  of 
an  establishment,  I  must  now  go  on,  and  do  what  I  can. 
But  I  must  deprecate  criticism,  especially  that  of  those 
who  are  disposed  to  judge  of  a  chapter  as  of  a  short  es- 
say, instead  of  considering  of  what  a  vast  whole  it 
forms  a  part. — I  am  however  very  glad  of  your  obser- 
vations, sent  in  the  manner  they  have  lately  been. 
They  very  often  suggest  improvements  beyond  what  you, 
perhaps,  had  in  view.  .  .  Your  remarks  on  Leviticus  x. 
made  me,  at  least,  a  hard  days  work  :  and  yet  I  do  not 
think  you  will  be  satisfied  with  what  I  have  done.  Here 
especially  I  note  that  you  seem  to  have  forgotten  how  I 
wrote,  sick  or  well,  in  spirits  or  out,  lively  or  dull :  the 
tale  of  bricks  must  be  delivered.  I  agree  with  you,  that 
great  points  give  the  best  occasion  to  practical  observa- 
tions ;  but  that  is  when  a  man  has  the  genius,  and  is  in 
frame  to  improve  them  :  and  I  often  feel  a  sad  deficiency 
in  both  respects.     Indeed,  my  maturer  judgment  may 


272  COMMENTARY  ON  [ClIAP.    X. 

(Oircct  ami  improve  what  I  formerly  wrote  ;  but  I  verily 
believe  I  am  now  incapable  of  writing,  de.  novo,  so  much 
to  the  purpose,  and  so  rapidly,  as  I  then  did.  I  would 
however  query,  whether  leading  the  ordinary  reader 
from  verse  to  verse,  with  useful  observations,  though  not 
striking  to  persons  of  superior  cultivation,  may  not  be  as 
beneficial  in  teaching  him  to  think,  and  deduce  instruc- 
tion for  himself. — But  enough  of  this.'' 

The  close  of  this  passage  may  be  considered  as  the  au- 
thor's reply  to  those  who  have  thouglit,  that  it  might  have 
been  an  advantage  had  the  Practical  Observations,  after  all 
particulars  had  been  explained  in  the  notes,  taken  up  the 
more  genei^al  topics  which  a  review  of  the  whole  suggest- 
ed, rather  than  again  have  retraced  the  passage  from 
verse  to  verse,  which  not  unfrecpiently  (especially  in 
the  Epistles,)  leads  to  a  repetition  of  what  had  occur- 
red in  the  explanation.  In  the  historic  parts,  the  plan 
alluded  to  is  frequently  adopted  :  and  hence  the  most  in- 
teresting reflections  not  uncommonly  occur  on  apparently 
unpromising  chapters.* 

"  January  27,  1803.  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your 
hints  on  some  of  the  Psalms,  particularly  the  xvth.  and 
xxiid.  I  write  a  great  part  of  the  notes  over  again. 
I  was  very  ill,  and  very  much  discouraged,  when  I 
hurried  over  this  part  of  the  work  :  and  as  I  am  vastly 
desirous  of  doing  something  less  inadequate  on  this  most 
delightful  part^of  scripture,  I  wish  you,  with  all  freedom, 
to  give  me  your  sentiments.  A  man  who  reads  at  leisure, 
and  has  a  tolerable  measure  of  taste  and  judgment,  will 
strike  out  thoughts,  and  ways  of  stating  things,  which  his 
equal  or  superior,  in  labouring  through  his  daily  task, 
would  not  hit  on." 

*  See,  for  example,  the  Practical  Observations  on  Genesis  v.-— 
the  catalogue  of  antediluvian  patriarchs. 


1788—1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  273 

The  observation  here  made  is  one,  to  the  benefit  of 
which  every  commentator  is  certainly  entitled.  The 
preacher,  or  writer  of  remarks  on  particular  passages, 
selects  those  parts  of  scripture  which  strike  his*  mind, 
on  which  he  has  something,  perhaps,  more  than  com- 
mon to  offer  :  the  regular  commentator  must  travel 
through  all  alike  ;  and  may  thus  perhaps  rise  to  a  less 
height  on  many  given  passages  than  even  inferior  men 
may  attain. 

In  1807,  before  the  edition  in  hand  was  completed,  all 
the  earlier  volumes  were  so  nearly  sold  off,  that  it  became 
necessary  to  commence  a  new  one.     On  this  occasion  the 
question  recurred,  whether  my  father  should  undertake 
the  publication  on  his  own  account,  or  dispose  of  the  work  • 
to  the  booksellers  :  and  it  was  again  decided  in  favour  of 
the  former  plan,  for  the  same  reason  as  before, — that  he 
might  be  at  full  liberty  to  give  it  every  improvement  in 
his  power.     '^  It  would  certainly,"  he  says,  ^*  be  more 
agreeable  to  me  to  pay  all  the  sums  which  I  owe,  and  to 
have  no  further  concern  with  the  trading  part  of  the 
service  :  but  I  do  not  at  present  feel  this  much  of  a  bur- 
den to  me  ;  and  I  am  concious  that  I  have  property  suffi- 
cient, and  more  than  sufiicient  to  discharge  all  in  due  time  ; 
and  that  both  the  debts  and  the  dealings  were  the  result  of 
a  wish  to  do  my  best  to  promote  the  cause  of  true  reli- 
gion, and  proceeded  not  either  from  the  desire  of  world- 
ly lucre  or  honour  or  from  a  scheming  spirit.     It  was  the 
only  possible  plan  at  the  time.'' 

The  same  letter  (dated  March  11,)  gives  the  following 
notice  of  the  progress  which  the  work  was  making  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  and  of  ^^  a  mark  of  esteem  and 
regard''  there  conferred  upon  the  author,  of  which,  though 
he  would  meet  it  with  a  return  of  respect  and  gratitude, 
he  never  thought  it  proper  further  to  avail  himself. — ^^  I 

2M 


274  COMMENTARY  ON  [ClIAP  X. 

had  two  letters  from  North  America  about  three  week§ 
since,  in  one  of  which  I  am  informed  by  a  bookseller, 
that  he  has  twelve  hundred  subscribers  for  the  Bible, 
and  expects  a  great  many  more  ;  and  that  it  is  read  with 
approbation  by  the  religious  people  of  all  descriptions. 
As  a  proof  of  this  approbation,  the  packet  contained  a 
paix;hment  by  which  I  am  constituted  D.  D.  by  the  Dick- 
ensonian  College,  Carlisle,  Pennsylvania,  by  persons  whose 
names  I  never  before  heard.  What  use  I  may  make  of 
this  honorary  distinction  is  a  subsequent  consideration  : 
but  the  whole  encourages  me  to  hope  that  my  labour  is 
not  in  vain.'' 

The  letters  referred  to  (which  are  now  before  me,) 
assured  him  that,  "  if  he  could  know  half  the  extent  of 
good  which  had  already  resulted  to  the  interests  of  our 
glorious  Redeemers  kingdom  in  that  country,  from  his 
Commentary  and  other  works,  his  joy  would  befull?^ 

In  April  1809,  we  find  the  third  edition  advanced 
about  half  way  to  its  completion.  "  I  was  not  aware,'' 
the  author  writes,  "  at  the  beginning  of  the  former  edi- 
tion, that  the  nature  of  the  work  would  render  the  print- 
ing so  tedious  ;  (for  it  never  stopped  for  me  one  day,  ex- 
cept when  I  lost  the  preface  ;)  and  nine  years  was  far 
more  than  I  looked  forward  to  :  .  .  .  but  three  years,  that 
is,  a  year  and  a  half  from  this  time,  may  without  dif- 
ficulty finish  the  present  edition On  the  whole,  I 

believe  few  persons  would  have  found  courage  and  per- 
tinacity to  struggle  through  all  the  difliculties  of  so  vast 
an  undertaking,  as  compared  with  my  circumstances:  and, 
though  many  may  see,  or  think  they  see,  misaikes  in  my 
manner  of  conducting  the  work,  on  the  most  careful  re- 
view, I  cannot  see  how  I  could,  consistently  with  my  prin- 
ciples, and  with  reserving  the  copy-right,  have  done  ma- 
terially better.     I  have  accomplished  my  object ;  and  am 


1788 — 1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  »  %75 

more  disposed  to  rejoice  and  be  thankful,  than  to  com- 
plain.'^ 

At  the  close  of  1810,  my  father  contracted  with  the 
present  proprietors  for  the  sale  of  the  copy-right,  for 
which  he  eventually  received  2,000/.,  and  for  the  re- 
maining copies  of  the  third  edition.  The  following  year 
they  proceeded  with  a  new  edition  :  and  near  the  close  of 
1812  the  injunction  against  them  was  obtained,  by  re- 
presentations which  could  not  be  substantiated.  My  fa- 
ther wrote  concerning  it,  as  follows,  January  22,  1813. 

^^  Could  it  be  established,  the  consequences  would  be, 
the  sweeping  away  of  all  my  little  property ;  the  locking  up 
of  5,000/.  expended  by  the  purchasers  of  the  copy-right> 
besides  the  money  paid  me, — which  they  would  have  a 
right  to  reclaim  ;  and  the  perpetuating  of  the  first  edition, 
with  all  its  imperfections  on  its  head,  to  the  exclusion  of 
all  subsequent  improvements ;   unless  some  compromise 

could  be  submitted  to It  is  wholly  in  the  breast  of 

one  man  (the  Chancellor  to  decide  :  but  that  man's  heart 

is  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord  ! Pray  that  I  may  be 

enabled  to  act  as  it  becomes  a  Christian,  and  an  aged  mi- 
nister of  Christ,  in  the  business  ;  and,  as  to  the  rest,  the 
will  of  the  Lord  be  done. 

Another  extract  of  about  the  same  date  is  communi- 
cated to  me  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Mayor.  "  An  instance 
of  his  disinterestedness,*'  says  that  esteemed  friend,  "  I 
have  before  me,  when  relating  the  difiiculties  he  was 

placed  in  by  's  suit.     Besides  the  r»in  which  it 

would  be  to  his  property,  which  would  oblige  him  to 
throw  himself  upon  his  creditors,  and  for  maintenance 
upon  God's  providence,  he  laments  the  heavy  loss  it 
would  be  to  the  purchasers  of  the  copy-right,  and  adds  : 
'  Should  he  succeed,  it  would  render  all  my  labours  in 
this  respect,  for  the  last  twenty  years,  at  present  useless. 


27b  COMMENTARY    ON  [ChAP.  X. 

But,  it'  God  see  the  work  suited  to  be  an  instrument  for 
promoting  his  glory,  neither  the  devil  nor  his  factoi*s  ean 
hinder  its  circulation  :  if  not,  let  it  go  to  the  dogs.  As 
to  the  rest,  were  I  a  poet,  I  would  add  another  line  about 
authore  to  those  of  Virgil, 

*  Sic  vos  non  vobis  vellera  fertis,  oves,*  &c. 
If  good  be  done,  let  both  the  profit  and  the  credit  go  to 
others.  I  exult  that  I  am  not  the  injurious,  but  the  in- 
jured party.' ''  Mr.  Mayor  proceeds  :  "  From  a  sub- 
sequent letter  of  the  12th  of  February,  1813,  I  could  not 
but  admire  his  perseverance,  in  preparing  a  new  edition 
to  be  printed  at  some  future  period,  notwithstanding  the 
uncertainty  of  the  present  use  or  emolument  to  be  made 
of  it." 

February  11th,  after  having  been  twice  in  London 
upon  the  subject,  he  says  :   ^^  I  finished  my  answer  to 

's  aflidavit,  made  my  own,  and  signed  it  on  the  29th 

ult. ;  and,  after  a  most  wearisome  time  to  body  and  mind, 
returned  home  on  the  30th,  fully  expecting  to  hear  the 
Chancellors  decision  in  a  few  days  :  but  hitherto  I  have 

heard  nothing I  was  very  poorly  in  town,  worse 

than  usual,  and  feared  returning  home  quite  ill  :  but  I 
did  not.  I  have,  however,  been  very  weak  and  low  since, 
as  if  recovering  from  a  fever  ;  but  I  rather  get  better, 
and  the  spring  is  coming  on.  Close  study,  which  is  too 
much  for  me,  is,  next  to  prayer,  my  chief  relief  from 
gloomy  tlioughts  :  but  they  are  not  so  much  about  my 
temporal  venations,  as  concerning  the  reason  why  God 
thus  contends  with  me.  . . .  While  fully  conscious  before 
Him,  that  I  never  meant  to  injure  any  man,  so  many 
other  things  recur  to  my  remembrance,  as  to  the  presum- 
tion  of  my  undertaking,  and  all  the  evil  attending  the 
whole  prosecution  of  it,  that  I  ani  often  much  cast  down  : 
yet  hope  prevails.'' 


1788 1817.]  THE  SCRIPTURES.  |  277 

The  foliowing  extracts  of  a  letter  addressed  to  his 
daughter,  tw o  days  previously,  further  illustrate  his  stPte 
of  mind  at  this  anxious  period. — The  first  is  from  another 
hand. 

"  February  9,  1813.  Your  father  returned  from  Lon- 
don very  poorly^  but^  through  mercy,  not  laid  up  as  on 
former  occasions  ;  for  the  next  day  he  preached  two  ex- 
cellent sermons,  on,  Set  your  affections  on  thins^s  above, 
and,  The  end  of  all  things  is  at  hand.  The  first  espe- 
cially was  most  admirable.'' 

The  next  is  his  own  addition  to  the  letter. 

" speaks  as  if  a  final  settlement  of ^'s 

business  might  soon  be  expected  ;  but  I  am  far  from  being 
so  sanguine.  The  gross  blunders  of  my  former  lawyers, 
and  the  clumsiness  of  the  deeds,  throw  intricacy  on  what 
we  might  think  so  plain  that  the  event  was  certain. 
What  the  partners  are  doing  I  cannot  conceive.  Eleven 
days  have  elapsed  since  I  completed  my  answer,  which  I 
supposed  would  have  been  brought  into  court  directly. . . . 
However  I  am  not  anxious.  Let  who  will  take  property 
and  credit,  if  the  Lord  Jesus  does  but  receive  my  soul ! 
But  should  it  go  wholly  against  me,  I  shall  never  more, 
as  far  as  I  can  see,  have  money  for  travelling  expences, 
except  unavoidable." 

The  next  letter  (dated  March  12th,)  brought  intelli- 
gence that  the  injunction  was  dissolved.  The  partners 
handsomely  defrayed  all  expences  of  the  suit :  and  here 
my  father's  embarassments,  though  not  his  labours,  res- 
pecting his  Commentary  ended. 

The  first  edition  of  this  work,  completed  in  1792, 
consisted  originally  of  three  thousand  copies  :  but, 
after  all  that  remained  of  it  had  been  sold  in  1798,  for 
450/.,  (the  retail  price  of  little  more  than  one  hundred 
copies,)  it  continued  to  be  reprinted,  as  diiferent  parts 


278  ,j^^  COMMENTARY  ON  [ClIAP.  X. 

were  wanted,  by  the  purchaser,  and  afterwards  by  otliers 
into  whose  hands  it  came,  and  who  advertized  their  re- 
prints as  a  third  edition  ;  and  was  sold  exclusively  till 
1802,  and  then  jointly  with  my  father^s  editions  till  1814  : 
so  that  it  is  making  a  low  calculation  to  say,  that  it  ex- 
tended to  fi\^  thousand  copies.  The  first  edition  ivitli 
references^  commenced  in  1802,  and  completed  in  1809, 
consisted  of  two  thousand  :  the  second  begun  in  1807, 
and  finished  in  1811,  of  the  same  number:  the  third, 
which  was  in  the  course  of  publication  from  1812  to  1814, 
of  three  thousand.  The  edition,  on  the  revision  of 
which  the  author  laboured  from  the  year  1818  till  the 
very  commencement  of  his  last  illness,  and  which  is  just 
completed,  is  in  stereotype  ;  and  forms,  I  presume,  the 
largest  work  ever  submitted  to  that  process.  The  copy 
was  fully  prepared  by  himself  for  the  press  to  the  end  of 
2  Timothy  iii.  2  :  and  for  the  remainder  he  left  a  copy 
of  the  preceding  edition,  corrected,  though  less  perfectly, 
to  the  very  end  of  the  Revelation  ;  from  which  the  work 
has  been  finished,  according  to  his  own  final  directions, 
and  in  concert  with  his  family,  under  the  care  of  a 
person  who  had  been  his  literary  assistant  in  carrying  it 
on,  and  in  whom  he  placed  entire  confidence. 

Besides  these  English  editions,  amounting  to  at  least 
twelve  thousand  copies,  I  have  received,  from  an  Ameri- 
can bookseller  of  respectability,  the  particulars  of  eight 
editions  printed  within  the  territories  of  the  United  States, 
at  Philadelphia,  New  York,  Boston,  and  Hartford,  from 
the  year  1808  to  1819.  amounting  to  twenty-five  thou- 
sand two  hundred  and  fifty  copies  :  besides  an  edition  of 
the  sacred  text  only  with  my  father's  references,  contents 
of  the  chapters,  and  introductions  to  the  several  books  of 
scripture. 

The  retail  price  of  all  the  English  copies,  taking  their 


1788 — 1817.]  THfi  SCRIPTURES.  A  ^79 

number  as  above  stated,  (which  I  believe  to  be  short  of 
the  truth,)  would,  I  find,  amount  to  the  sum  of  67,600/.  : 
that  of  the  American  copies,  to  132,300/.  making  together 
199,900/.  Probably  no  theological  work  can  be  pointed 
out,  which  produced,  by  its  sale  during  the  author's  life- 
time, an  equal  vSum. 

As  it  has  been  suggested,  that  the  greater  circulation 
of  the  work  in  America  may  be  ascribed  to  the  more  free 
competition  in  that  country,  where  no  copy-right  could 
exist,  and  the  consequent  lower  price  at  which  it  might  be 
sold,  I  will  further  add,  that  I  find,  on  a  careful  calcula- 
tion, that  the  average  price  of  the  English  copies  has 
been  under  51.  135.  that  of  the  American  copies  very 
nearly  51.  5s.  ;  and,  when  it  is  considered  that  a  much 
larger  proportion  of  the  American  copies,  than  of  the 
English,  has  been  without  references  ;  that  eight  thous- 
and five  hundred  of  the  former,  and  none  of  the  latter 
have  been  in  octavo  ;  and  that  half  the  American  edi- 
tions have  consisted  of  much  greater  numbers,  (from 
four  thousand  to  five  thousand,)  than  the  English,  and 
could  therefore  be  afforded  at  a  cheaper  rate  ;  it  will  not 
appear,  from  this  instance,  that  our  transatlantic  breth- 
ren have  so  much  the  advantage  of  us  as  may  be  supposed. 

It  is  also  to  be  observed,  that,  in  the  case  of  these  fo- 
reign editions,  "  the*  ox  that  treadeth  out  the  corn^'  is 
completely  "  muzzled  ;''  no  portion  of  profit  whatever 
being  reserved  for  the  author.  This  is  a  consideration, 
however,  which  gave  the  author  of  the  work  in  question 
no  concern.  He  wrote  to  do  good  ;  in  order  to  which  it 
was  necessary  to  be  read  :  he  derived,  therefore,  unmin- 
gled  satisfaction  from  the  tidings  of  the  success  of  his 
works  on  the  American  continent ;  where  he  had  reason 
to  believe,  that  an  infusion  of  his  plain,  practical,  scrip- 


280  t,         DEATH  OP  MUS.  SCOTT,  [ChAP.  X 

tural  divinity  was  much  wanted,  and  might  prove  highly 
sahitary. 

To  his  history  of  his  Commentary  my  father  subjoins 
the  foljovving  paragraph  : 

^^  In  the  same  year  that  the  Bible  was  begun,  my 
youngest  son  (Benjamin)  was  born,  and  two  years  and  a 
half  afterwards,  in  September  1790,  my  wife  died  ; 
while  my  hands  were  full  of  employment,  and  my  heart  of 
most  overwhelming  cares:  so  that  my  distress  and  anguish, 
at  that  period,  were  beyond  whatever  will  be  known  or 
conceived  by  others,  at  least  in  this  world.  But  the  Lord, 
in  unspeakable  mercy,  gave  me  my  present  wife,  who  has 
proved  in  every  respect  a  blessing  tome  and  my  children ; 
a  veryuseful  assistant  in  my  various  labours ;  and  I  trust 
an  instrument  of  good  to  numbers." 

I  shall  add  little  to  what  my  father  has  here  said  upon 
this  subject.  Of  the  overwhelming  distress  which  he 
felt  on  my  mother's  decease,  I  could  bear  striking  testi- 
mony :  and  many  could  join  me  in  declaring  the  tender 
affection  with  which  he  ever  cherished  her  memory.  If 
any  one  should  be  ready  to  think  the  fact  of  his  marrying 
again,  within  much  less  time  than  is  usual  on  such  occa- 
sions, an  evidence  to  the  contrary,  I  confidently  affirm 
that  such  a  person  is  mistaken  ;  and  I  fully  believe  that,  if 
the  whole  case  could  be  fairly  laid*  before  a  wise  and  im- 
partial judge,  he  would  justify  my  father's  conduct.  Let 
it  be  considered  in  what  circumstances  he  was  left — with 
four  children  of  an  age  peculiarly  requiring  superin- 
tendence— without  any  person  to  take  chargeof  them  su- 
perior to  a  servant — himself  involved  in  labours  and 
struggles,  sufficient,  one  would  imagine,  not  only  to  oc- 
cupy i\\\  his  time,  but  to  wear  down  his  health  and  spirits 
— his  habits  so  perfectly  domestic,  that  he  never  thought 
of  seeking  relaxation  out  of  his  own  doors,  unless  it  were 


1790 1793.]  AND  OCCURRENCES  FOLLOWING.     281 

in  a  short  walk,  and  one  evening  in  a  fortnight  in  meeting 
his  clerical  brethren  in  a  private  society.  To  them  he 
submitted  his  case  and  the  question  of  his  marriage  :  they 
did  not  disapprove  the  measure,  and  he  determined  upon 
it.  His  situation  was  peculiar  ;  nor  was  his  character 
quite  of  the  ordinary  standard.  I  am  persuaded  he 
acted  rightly,  and  that  the  blessing  of  heaven  follow- 
ed the  step  he  took.  Indeed,  no  person  could  be  more 
happy  than  my  father  was,  in  both  his  marriages.  Of  the 
person  who  formed  the  object  of  his  second  choice,  as 
she  survives  him,  I  shall  say  nothing  more,  than  that 
the  whole  family  concurs  in  the  sentence  which  my  fa- 
ther pronounced  on  his  dying  bed,  '^  That  she  had  been 
an  unspeakable  blessing  to  him  and  his  for  more  than 
thirty  years." 

I  annex  a  few  letters  connected  with  the  changes  which 
have  thus  been  adverted  to.  They  are  valuable  in  them- 
selves, and  tend  further  to  illustrate  the  character  of  the 
writer. 

The  following  letter  announced  the  death  of  my  dear 
mother  to  her  sister,  and  through  her  to  the  rest  of  her 
family. 

''  Chapel  Street,  September  9,  1790.  Dear  Sister,  I 
should  be  glad  to  spare  you,  and  our  poor  aged  mother, 
and  my  other  friends  in  Northumberland,  the  pain  and 
sorrow  that  this  letter  must  occasion  :  but  it  must  not  be. 
Your  dear  sister  is  gone  to  heaven  before  us  ;  and  has 
left  many,  and  me  especially,  and  her  children,  selfishly 
to  lament,  that  she  is  no  longer  a  sinner  or  a  suiTerer,  and 
almost  to  wish  her  back  again.  She  was  taken,  about  a 
fortnight  ago,  with  apparently  a  slight  indisposition  in 
her  stomach,  which  it  was  thought  some  trivial  medicines 
would  remove  ;  but  it  proved  obstinate,  and  at  length  ter- 

2N 


282  occurr?:nces  following       [Chap.  X. 

niinated  in  fever  and  nervous  delirium,  and  baffled  every 
effort  of  the  medical  gentlemen  who  kindly  attended  her. 
She  died  yesterday  a  little  after  seven  in  the  evening. — 
I  see,  and  trust  you  will  see,  and  submit  to  the  hand  of 
the  Lord  in  this  most  painful  dis])ensation  :  and  I  would 
study  how  to  get  eomfort  under  it,  and  derive  benefit 
from  it.  But  my  heart  rebels  against  my  judgment  fre- 
quently ;  and  I  feel  my  loss  to  be  so  great,  that  gloom  and 
distrust  rush  in.  Yet  the  Lord  can  make  it  up  to  us  by 
his  own  all  sufficiency. — lean  truly  say,  that,  during  the 
fifteen  years  and  three  quarters  that  the  Lord  hath  lent 
me  this  loan^  I  have  valued  it  more  and  more  daily.  In 
every  sense,  she  has  been  a  blessing  to  me,  even  as  a  mi- 
nister, as  well  as  a  Christian  :  and  few  persons  have  died 
more  generally  and  justly  lamented  by  all  that  knew  her. 
But  the  Lord  gave  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away  :  and 
blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord !  1  would  say  so  front 
my  heart :  though  it  aches  when  I  attempt  it. — The  last 
time  she  had  the  clear  use  of  her  faculties,  she  express- 
ed the  fullest  joy  and  confidence  in  the  Lord,  and  assu- 
rance, that,  if  she  died,  she  should  go  to  be  with  Christ  : 
and  she  wished  me  to  say  to  all  her  friends,  as  her  last 
advice,  that  they  would  never  know  happiness,  till  they 
left  all  other  dependencies  and  vain  pursuits,  to  seek  sal- 
vation and  comfort  by  faith  in  Christ  crucified,  and  in 
communion  with  God  through  him.  She  was  greatly  re- 
joiced by  your  last  letter  :  but  she  would  have  said  a  good 

deal  to  brother about  the  snares  of  the  world,  and  the 

danger  of  willing  to  be  ?nchf  if  he  had  stood  by  her  bed- 
side. I  must  leave  it  to  you  to  break  the  melancholy  sub- 
ject to  our  mother,  as  you  see  best My  dear  unknown 

sister,  to  whom  I  sincerely  wish  all  happiness  for  my  poor 
wife's  sake,  this  world,  believe  me,  is  a  bubble  :  we  shall 
soon  be  in  the  same  situation  with  her :  let  us  then  seek 


1790 — 1793.]  THE  DEATH  OF  MRS.  SCOTT.  283 

the  one  thing  needful  more  diligently,  even  that  good 
part  which  shall  never  be  taken  away.'' 

To  the  husband  of  the  same  correspondent,  April  4, 
1791.  ''I  should  have  written  before  this,  had  it  not 
been  for  my  excessive  engagements ;  notwithstanding  that 
I  was  aware  you  and  other  friends  in  the  north  would 
not  be  very  well  pleased  with  the  step  which  you  have 
heard  I  have  taken.  But,  whatever  you  may  suppose, 
I  certainly  acted  most  conscientiously  in  what  I  did  ;  and, 
I  doubt  not,  this  will  appear  in  the  day  when  all  the  mo- 
tives of  all  actions  shall  be  made  known.  A  variety  of 
peculiarities  in  my  situation,  disposition,  &c.  rendered  it 
necessary  for  me  to  deviate  from  the  etiquette  of  human 
custom,  if  I  would  go  on  with  my  many  and  important 
undertakings  with  a  quiet  mind.  I  have  no  doubt  that 
your  dear  deceased  sister,  could  she  come  to  give  her 
opinion,  would  sanction  my  conduct.  .  .  .  No  body,  that 
knows  me,  and  my  behaviour  to  her  from  the  time  we 
met  till  that  most  distressing  hour  of  my  life  when  the 
Lord  separated  us  for  a  season,  will  suppose  that  my 
conduct  arose  from  want  of  love  to  her,  or  of  respect  for 

memory;  which  will  be  dear  to  me  to  my  latest  hour 

I  can  only  add,  that  I  shall  always  be  glad  to  see,  or  hear 
from,  or  do  any  service  to  any  of  you,  as  much  as  ever ; 
and  I  have  not  forgotten  my  proposal  made  to  my  mother 
last  year,  as  I  mean  shortly  to  evince.  Whenever  you 
come  to  London,  you  will  meet  with  as  hearty  a  welcome 
in  my  house  as  ever,  if  you  will  favour  me  with  making 
it  your  home My  most  affectionate  and  dutiful  re- 
membrances to  my  mother  Kell.  May  the  Lord  be  her 
support  and  comfort  under  the  infirmities  of  her  old  age, 
and  in  the  hour  of  death,  and  her  portion  for  ever.  I 
seldom  forget  to  pray  for  you,  that  you  may  be  all  made 
meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light ;  that  we 


284  OCCURRENCES  FOLLOWING      [CHAP.  X. 

may  be  there  united  for  ever,  after  the  various  changes 
and  troubles  of  this  sinful  world." 

The  following  letter  he  addressed  to  his  deceased  wife's 
mother. 

^^  August  5,  1791.  Honoured  Madam,  Unexpected 
incidents,  arising  from  the  expensive  publication  in  which 
I  am  concerned,  have  rendered  it  inconvenient  to  me  to 
send  the  enclosed  10/.  sooner  ;  though  the  delay  has 
grieved  me.     I  understand  that  you  now  reside  with 

brother ;  yet  there  may  be  many  little  matters, 

tending  to  the  comfort  of  your  advanced  age,  that  you 
may  wish  for,  and  should  have  in  your  power.  Probably 
as  the  providence  of  God  hath  ordered  matters,  you  and 
I  may  never  meet  in  this  world  ;  but  your  present  com- 
fort and  future  felicity  are  and  must  be  near  my  heart, 
for  the  sake  of  your  valuable  daughter, —  now  a  saint  in 
glory,  surrounded  with  her  three  children  that  went 
thither  before  her,  as  I  am  fully  satisfied.  Whilst  it 
pleases  God  to  continue  your  life  and  mine,  you  may  be 
assured  of  the  same  sum  every  year,  and  probably  earlier 
next  year  than  I  have  at  present  been  able  to  send  it ; 
and  I  hope  you  will  oblige  me  by  receiving  it  without  hes- 
itation :  else  you  will  add  another  sorrow  to  the  many  I 
have  experienced.  If  you  knew  all  that  God  knows  of 
the  circumstances  in  which  I  have  been  placed,  you  could 
not  blame,  you  would  approve  of  the  step  I  have  taken^ 
since  it  pleased  God  to  take  your  dear  daughter  to  him- 
self. Situated  and  engaged  as  I  was,  it  was  literally  im- 
possible for  me  to  proceed  in  any  other  way I 

remain,  dear  madam,  with  sincere  affection,  and  good 
wishes  and  prayers  for  your  present  and  future  felicity, 
Your  s  affectionately  and  respectfully, 

Thomas  Scott.'' 

I  add  one  more  extract;  from  a  letter  addressed,  like. 


1790 — 1793.]  THE  DEATH  OF  MRS.  SCOTT.  285 

the  first,  to  my  mother's  sister,  and  dated  January  23, 
1793. 

"  It  cannot  have  given  any  person  more  satisfaction 
than  it  has  done  me,  that  the  Lord  put  it  into  my  power 
to  add  any  thing  to  the  comfort  of  the  aged  mother  of  her, 
who  was  so  long  my  choicest  earthly  blessing,  and  whose 
memory  must  ever  be  dear  to  me.  Though  I  have  never 
seen  her,  I  cannot  but  feel  a  measure  of  filial  respect  and 
affection  for  her,  as  well  as  love  for  you  and  your's :  and 
I  should  rejoice  at  the  opportunity  of  conversing  with 
you,  if  the  Lord  saw  good.  But  that  is  not  likely  in  pre- 
sent circumstances.  My  desire  therefore  and  prayer  are, 
that  we  may  be  found  amongst  those,  whom  Jesus  hath 
redeemed  unto  God  with  his  blood,  and  may  meet  in 
heaven  to  spend  together  a  joyful  eternity. — We  are  all 
poor  sinners,  in  our  best  estate ;  and  they  who  know  their 
own  hearts  most,  and  are  best  acquainted  with  the  spiritual 
law  of  God,  will  be  most  ready  to  make  allowance  for 
others,  as  well  as  most  prepared  to  value  the  atonement, 
grace,  and  salvation  of  our  divine  Redeemer  :  and  thus 
alone  can  we  be  made  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the 
saints  in  light.  You  have  no  reason,  therefore,  to  write 
with  timidity  to  such  a  poor,  weak,  wretched  sinner  as  I 
am.  The  Lord  hath  shewn  me  a  little  of  his  glorious  sal- 
vation, and  I  bear  witness,  in  a  feeble  manner,  to  his  pre- 
ciousness,  his  power,  truth,  mercy,  and  grace  :  but  I  have 
no  reason  to  assume  any  precedence  above  the  feeblest  of 
his  disciples ;  and  he  alone  makes  me  to  differ  from  the 
vilest  of  his  enemies  ;  and  must  preserve  that  difference, 

if  it  continue — as  I  trust  it  will I  send  you  all 

the  numbers  to  complete  three  copies  of  the  Bible  .... 
I  send  the  third  copy  for  my  mother,  at  my  late  dear 
wife's  desire.  If  then  you  have  sold  it,  the  money  is 
properly  her's :  and  I  hope  you  will  employ  it  in  any 


286  OCCURRENCES  FOLLOWING,  &C.  [ChAP.  X. 

i'op  her  comfort,  and  that  you  will  fairly  tell  me,  vvhetlier 
any  more  can  at  all  alleviate  her  sufferings  in  her  present 
state.  '.Depend  upon  it,  neither  I  nor  my  family  shall  be 
hurt  by  it. — Give  my  dutiful  love  to  her,  and  tell  her 
that  it  is  my  fervent  prayer,  that  the  Lord  would  be  her 
support,  comfort,  teacher,  and  Saviour ;  and  that  at  last 
she  may,  in  humble  and  lively  faith,  commend  her  soul, 
as  Stephen  did,  into  the  hands  of  the  Lord  Jesus;  that  so 
we  may  all  meet  in  heaven .... 

I  remain  your  sincerely  affectionate  brother, 

Thos.  Scott.'' 
At  a  subsequent  period  the  families  were  connected  by 
fresh  ties. 


1792 18C2.]  FINISHING  HIS  COMMENTARY.  &C.  287 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ADDITIONAL  PARTICULARS  FROM  THE  TIME  OF  FINISH- 
ING HIS  COMMETARY  TO  THE  EVE  OF  HIS  REMOVAL 
FROM  LONDON. 

In  giving  a  connected  view  of  the  transactions  relative 
to  my  father's  Commentary  on  the  scriptures,  we  have 
unavoidably  been  carried  forward  beyond  the  regular 
series  of  events,  even  past  the  time  of  his  removal  from 
London.  He  himself,  indeed,  has  recorded  little  in  his 
narrative  concerning  this  whole  period,  beyond  what  is 
already  before  the  reader.  Some  particulars,  however, 
may  be  collected,  especially  from  his  letters,  which  must 
not  be  omitted  in  the  history  of  his  life. 

We  may  first  advert  to  the  several  works  which  he 
published  within  the  period  assigned  to  this  chapter,  and 
which  may  be  mentioned  in  two  or  three  classes. 

His  "  Impartial  Statement  of  the  Scripture  Doctrine 
in  respect  of  Civil  Government,  and  the  Duties  of  Sub- 
jects," was  published  near  the  close  of  1792  ;  his  "  Rights 
of  God,"  (a  title  suggested  by  the  eager  discussions 
then  carried  on  concerning  the  rights  of  man,)  in  1793; 
and  his,  *^  Vindication  of  the  Divine  Inspiration  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  and  the  Doctrines  contained  in  them, 
in  answer  to  Mr.  Paine's  Age  of  Reason,"  in  1796. — 
These  publications  were  directed  against  the  infidel  and 
anarchical  principles  at  that  time  so  widely  diffused  in  the 


288 


FTOM  FINISHING  HIS  COMMENTARY    [ChAP.  XL 


nation.  -•The  Rights;  of  God"  vv^s  undertaken,  and 
the  title  adopted,  at  the  suggestion  of  another  person. 
Probably  the  title  was  not  well  chosen,  and  the  work 
attracted  less  notice  than,  perhaps,  any  other  production 
of  its  author.  The  two  other  pieces  were  repeatedly 
printed,  (particularly  the  x^nswer  to  Paine,  in  America 
as  well  as  at  home,)  and  obtained  a  pretty  wide  circida- 
tion.  Some  things  concerning  them  may  be  collected 
from  the  authors  letters. 

His  sending  the  first  mentioned  tract  to  his  dissenting 
friend,  now  Dr.  Ryland  of  Bristol,  gave  occasion  to  the 
expression  of  some  of  his  political  sentiments,  particu- 
larly as  connected  with  the  duties  of  Christians. 

^^  December  5,  1792.  You  will  receive  with  this  a 
few  copies  of  a  publication  on  a  subject  mentioned  in 
your  last :  not  on  politics,  but  on  the  religious  question 
connected  with  them.  I  have  endeavoured  to  be  impar- 
tial ;  and  I  do  not  expect  to  please  either  party  in  these 
violent  times  :  but  I  trust  moderate  men  will  approve 
most  of  it,  as  far  as  they  regard  the  Bible.  I  am  no  great 
stickler  for  monarchy,  or  any  of  its  appendages  ;  and  I 
trust  I  am  a  steady  friend  to  real  liberty,  in  all  cases  and 
places  :  yet,  as  human  nature  is  constituted,  I  am  apt  to 
think  a  limited  monarchy,  or  mixed  government,  where 
one  branch  oversees  and  checks  the  others,  is  best ;  and 
that  an  absolute  republic  must  verge  either  to  anarchy  or 
to  oligarchical  tyranny.  But  I  have  nothing  to  do  with 
such  questions.  I  should  obey  under  a  republic  even  as 
under  our  constitution,  if  providence  placed  me  under  it. 
I  also  think  that  our  constitution  is  like  a  good  old  clock, 
which  wants  cleaning,  regulating,  and  oiling  ;  but  that 
to  knock  it  in  pieces,  in  order  to  substitute  a  new  French 
watch  in  its  place,  the  going  of  which  has  not  been  tried, 
would  be  impolitic  and  even  ridiculous:   yet  multitudes 


1792 — 1802.]  TO  THE  EVE  OF  HIS  LEAVING  LONDON.  289 

are  bent  upon  this^  and  I  fear  bloodshed  will  be  the  con- 
sequence.— I  must  also  think  that  many  religious  and  res- 
pectable dissenters  have  expected  too  much,  in  a  world 
of  which  the  devil  is  styled  the  god  and  prince  ;  and 
where  protection  and  toleration  seem  the  utmost  that 
God's  children  can  hope  for.  Many  also,  both  dissenters 
and  others,  have  meddled  too  much  with  such  matters  : 
and  I  grieve  to  see  that  the  prejudice,  which  this  has  in- 
fused into  the  mind  of  religious  people  in  the  church,  is 
likely  to  widen  our  unhappy  divisions  :  for  they  will  not 
make  proper  discriminations.  .  .  .  My  sentiments  on  our 
duties  you  will  see  in  the  pamphlet :  so  far,  I  trust,  we 
shall  be  agreed  :  and,  if  our  political  creed  be  not  iden- 
tically the  same,  I  hope  that  will  make  no  diflPerence.  I 
always  thought  you  so  engaged  in  the  work  of  the  minis- 
try, and  in  promoting  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  as  to  be- 
stow little  time  about  other  governments  ;  and  I  trust  you 
will  be  so  still. — I  am  so  far  from  wishing  that  Dr. 
Priestley  had  been  burned  at  Birmingham,  that  I  am 
grieved  that  such  weapons  should  have  been  at  all  used 
by  those  who  pretended  to  be  friends,  either  to  the  doc- 
trines of  Christ,  or  to  the  constitution.  I  am  sorry  also, 
that  the  persons  you  mention  are  so  vehement.  An  ene- 
my hath  done  it.  As  far  as  I  ^lave  influence  I  would  be 
a  peace-maker  :  we  have  enemies  enough,  and  should 
not  quarrel  with  each  other.'' 

To  the  same,  December  24, 1792.  "  I  entirely  agree 
with  you,  that  many  things  want  mending  among  us  : 
but  I  fear  the  governed  are  as  much  to  blame  as  the  go- 
venors.  The  nation  indeed  is  a  mass  of  corruption  ;  and 
throwing  it  into  a  new  form  will  not  mend  it.  If  North 
America  prosper  under  her  new  government,  the  cause 
is  principally  to  be  found  in  the  moral  state  of  the  inha- 
bitants.    The  way  for  the  people  to  reform  the  govern- 

2  0 


290  FUOM  FINISHING    HIS  COMMENTARY  [ChAP.  XI. 

mejit  ohviously  is,  by  clioosing.  without  any  recompence, 
the  most  honest  nun  they  can  find,  tor  members  of  parlia- 
ment :  ^but.  if  the  senators*  votes  are  bought  by  ministers, 
the  electors"  votes  are  bought  by  senators,  not  only  in 
the  rotten  boroughs,  but  in  capital  cities,  and  counties  ; 
and  almost  every  voter,   like  Esau,  sells  his  birthright, 
and  then  is  angry  that  he  has  it  not.   If  we  could  see  that 
the  counties  and  large  cities  and  towns  made  an  honest  use  of 
their  privilege,  and  that  bribery  was  the  effect  of  inade- 
quate representation,  I  should  then  be  of  opinion  that  a 
reform  would  do  good ;  at  present,  I  fear  it  would  make 
bad  worse — at  least  no  better  :  for  who  almost  is  there 
that  does  not  vote  from  interest  rather  than  from  judg- 
ment. I  fear  we  are  nearly  ripe  for  vengeance  :  my  views 
are  gloomy  :  but  I  think  that  every  violent  change  would 
accelerate  our  ruin. 

"  I  am  rather  a  favourer  of  a  limited  monarchy  ;  but 
would  not  be  severe  on  a  mere  speculative  republican  ; 
though  I  think  silence,  in  that  case,  is  a  duty,  while  the 
providence  of  God  continues  us  under  a  monarchy  : 
and  I  can  find  nothing  in  history,  that  should  render 
any  but  the  ambitious  warrior,  or  the  avaricious  mer- 
chant, loud  of  a  rc|^ublic.  I  am  sure  that  republican 
Greece,  Rome,  and  Cariliage,  shed  human  blood,  and 
multiplied  crimes,  to  increase  wealth  or  extend  conquest, 
even  as  much  as  absolute  monarchs  :  and  their  intes- 
tine oppressions  and  divisions  were  equally  calamitous.-' 

It  is  to  be  remembered  that,  at  the  period  when  this 
letter  was  written,  one  of  the  dogmas  attempted  to  be 
imposed  upon  a  deluded  people  was,  that  all  wai-s  were 
to  be  traced  to  the  ambition  of  kinii;s. — In  these  let- 
ters also  the  writer  appears  rather  to  have  softened 
down  the  expressions  of  the  preference  which  he  enter- 
tained for  the  British  constitution  :  at  least  that  prefe- 


1792 1802.]  TO  THE  EVE  OF  HIS  LEAVING  LONDON.  291 

pence  was  certainly  more  decided  and  strong  at  a  later 
period. — It  need  scarcely  be  said,  that  a  man  of  my 
father's  principles  and  discernment  was  never  in  any  dan- 
ger of  being  duped,  by  the  boasting  pretensions  and 
high  expectations  which  accompanied  the  earlier  periods 
of  the  French  revolution.  He  always  held,  that,  pro- 
ceeding as  it  did  upon  irreligious  principles,  and  being 
founded  in  false  views  of  human  nature,  no  good  was  to 
be  expected  from  it,  otherwise  than  as  a  remote  conse- 
quence. 

"  In  respect  of  the  Test  Act,"  he  proceeds,  "  I  would 
certainly  abolish  it,  let  what  would  be  the  consequence  ; 
because  I  deem  it  the  scandal  of  the  church  :  but,  if  I 
were  a  dissenter,  I  think  I  should  care  less  about  it,  for 
as  a  religious  body  the  dissenters  will  be  less  led  into 
temptation,  when  abridged  of  their  right  in  this  par- 
ticular, than  if  freely  admitted  to  places  of  trust  and 
profit  :  and,  I  may  be  deemed  censorious,  but,  I  fear^ 
a  loss  of  spirituality  renders  them  more  earnest  in  this 
matter  than  their  forefathers  were.      As   to   the  sup- 
posed preference  of  the  episcopalian  ministers  who  preach 
the  gospel,  I  see  little  of  it.     Here,  at  least,  we  most 
of  us  have  less  salaries  and  more  work  than  our  dis- 
senting brethren.     Some  few  in  the  church,  indeed,  by 
family  connexions,  and  other  means,  get  large  livings  ; 
but  probably  they  would  be  better  without  them  :  and^ 
except  by  family  connexions  or  bought  livings,  we  are 
almost  as  much  out  of  the  way  of  preferment  as  our  dis- 
senting brethren.     For  my  part,  I  scarcely  know  what  I 
am  except  chaplain  of  the  Lock  ;  but  I  expect,  at  leasts 
that  a  good  living  will  be  offered  to  you  as  soon  as  to  me  : 
and  it  will  then  be  soon  enough  to  say,  whether  I  would 
accept  of  it.  However,  I  trust  I  speak  as  a  Christian  minis- 
ter, when  I  say,  that  toleration  and  protection  are  all  that 


292  FROM  FINISHING  HIS  COMMENTAKV    [ChAP.XL 

God's  servants  can  reasonably  expect  in  tlie  devil's  world: 
and  in  tact  this  is  all  tliey  should  desire.  But  I  fear  one 
ellect  of  these  disputes  will  be,  the  widening  of  the  breach 
between  the  servants  of  Christ  in  the  establishment  and 
out  of  it.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  vindicate  the  madness  of 
a  mob  :  but  I  do  not  suppose  that  either  the  king  or  the 
sober  part  of  the  church  are  to  blame  for  it ;  more  than 
the  moderate  men  at  Paris  for  tlie  late  massacres.  Many 
dissenters  chiefly  (would  I  could  say  wholly)  of  the  Arians 
and  Socinians,  have  made  themselves  obnoxious  to  those 
who  are  attached  to  the  present  constitution  :  others  have 
not  acted  discreetly ;  and  parties  always  are  violent  against 
whole  bodies  of  men  :  they  who  run  into  one  extreme 
drive  others  into  the  opposite :  moderate  men  please  no 
party,  and  their  voice  cannot  be  heard :  thus  the  war  of 
the  tongue  and  pen  are  the  prelude  to  greater  outrages, 
which  are  rather  chargeable  on  human  depravity,  than  on 
the  principles  of  the  party  that  commit  them.  I  fear, 
as  well  as  you,  lest  our  governors  should  be  too  tenacious, 
and  rely  too  much  on  the  temporary  advantage  they  have 
gained  :  yet  I  see  there  would  be  impolicy  in  timid  coun- 
sels. I  feel  that  they  cannot  safely  at  present  offend  such 
numbei^  as  a  proper  retrenchment  of  expences  would  oc- 
casion ;  and  I  am  so  sensible  of  the  importance  of  their 
measures,  and  of  the  peril  and  delicacy  of  their  situation, 
that  I  can  only  pray  to  the  Lord  to  give  them  wisdom  to 
apply  proper  remedies  to  the  distempered  state  of  the 
nation,  if  so  be  it  may  be  healed.  A  war  at  any  rate 
must  be  dreaded  at  present :  but,  could  I  suppose  admi- 
nistration so  impolitic  as  to  engage  in  a  war  in  order  to 
exterminate  republicans  on  the  continent,  I  should  then 
make  up  my  mind  on  the  business,  and  prepare  for  tlie 
worst.  But  I  do  not  think  they  mean  this,  and  how  far 
it  may  be  unavoidable  for  them  to  support  the  Dutch^  I 


X79a 1802.]  TO  THE  EVE  OF  HIS  LEAVING  LONDON.  293 

cannot  tell.  I  am  siire^  if  I  could  be  heard^  I  should  say 
to  all  the  powers  in  Europe^  Unite  in  telling  the  French 
Convention,  that  if  they  will  let  other  nations  alone,  and 
quietly  settle  their  own  government  as  they  please,  they 
shall  not  be  molested :  but  that,  if  they  will  be  busy  bo- 
dies in  other  men's  matters,  they  must  take  the  conse- 
quences  As  to  the  weight  of  taxes  it  is  so  great, 

that  most  of  us  feel  and  lament  it :  yet  freedom  from  war 
in  our  borders,  from  bloody  persecution,  from  famine  and 
pestilence,  should  render  us  patient  and  thankful ;  nor 
can  the  evil  be  prevented.  I  have  now  written  a  long 
letter,  on  what  I  often  think  of,  but  do  not  frequently 
discuss.  Let  us,  my  brother,  leave  worldly  people  to 
their  disputes  about  worldly  subjects  :  let  us  avoid  all  at- 
tachments to  parties,  and  the  extremes  of  all  parties  :  let 
us  endeavour  to  act  as  peacemakers,  especially  in  the 
church,  and  deem  ourselves  far  more  nearly  united  in 
the  bond  of  faith  to  all  who  love  Christ,  than  we  can  be 
to  those  of  our  party,  either  religious  or  political,  who  do 
not.  Let  us  pray  for  the  peace  of  Jerusalem,  and  give 
up  ourselves  to  the  work  of  our  ministry,  and  then  we 
shall  be  useful  and  comfortable  at  all  events.  I  am,  your 
sincerely  affectionate  friend  and  brother,  T.    S." 

Mr.,  now  Dr.,  Carey  was  at  this  time  seeking  permis- 
sion to  proceed  to  India  as  a  missionary  ;  and  I  find  the 
following  notices  of  the  subject  in  this  correspondence  of 
my  father's  with  Dr.  Ryland. 

^^  April  24,  1793.  Mr.  Carey  brought  me  your  letter, 
and  I  wrote  to  Mr.  Grant  about  the  business  ;  which  was 
all  I  could  do,  as  every  one  of  my  friends  would  have  re- 
ferred that  matter  to  him." 

^^May  6,  1793.  Mr.  Grant  expresses  the  most  cor- 
dial desire  to  serve  Mr.  Carey.  I  am  sure  I  cordially 
approve  of  the  plan,  and  pray  God  to  give  success  to  it : 


294  FHOM  FINISHING  HIS  COMMENTARY.    [ChAP.  XL 

for,  if  sinners  are  but  brought  to  repent,  believe  in 
Christ,  and  walk  in  newness  of  life,  I  am  satisfied,  and 
1  am  quite  willing  that  the  Lord  should  work  by  what 
instruments  he  pleases,  and  rejoice  that  they  are  multi- 
plied.-^ 

Of  the  answer  to  Paine  my  father  thus  writes,  April 
26,  1796.  '^  I  have  interwoven  all  the  grand  proofs  of 
revelation,  and  the  nature  and  tendency  of  Christianity^ 
with  I  trust  a  sufHcient  confutation  of  Mr.  P.'s  cavils.  I 
have  not  treated  him  quite  so  genteelly  as  the  Bishop  of 
LandafThas  ;  who,  by  the  way,  has  said  many  good  things, 
though  he  seems  to  give  up  the  point  as  to  the  entire 
inspiraton  of  scripture,  and  pretends  not  to  answer  ob- 
jections to  the  doctrines  :  but,  while  I  have  endeavoured 
strongly  to  expose  Mr.  P.'s  disingenuousness,  ignorance 
of  his  subject,  &c.  I  hope  I  have  been  kept  from  a  harsh 
spirit,  and  from  retorting  his  revilings.'' 

On  reprinting  the  work  in  1798,  the  author  made  '*  re- 
trenchments^" as  well  as  alterations,  thinking  it  *'  no  lon- 
ger necessary  to  squabble''  with  his  antagonist,  "  w  here 
he  advances  objections  peculiar  to  himself,''  though  he 
^^  did  not  wish  to  have  the  answers  to  more  general  ob- 
jections out  of  print.'' 

The  last  separate  publication  of  my  father's  life  was  a 
new  and  abridged  edition  of  this  work,  at  the  beginning 
of  the  year  1820,  accommodated  to  the  change  of  times 
which  had  taken  place.  As  he  had  entirely  re-written 
it,  and,  ''  while  he  greatly  abridged  it,  added  much  new 
matter,  and  several  striking  quotations,  especially  from 
Bishop  Watson,"  he  says,  '*  it  may,  indeed,  more  pro- 
perly be  considered  as  a  new  publication  on  the  subject, 
at  the  close  of  his  life  and  labours,  than  merely  as  an 
abridgement." 


1792 1802.]  TO  THE  EVE  OF  HIS  LEAVING  LONDON.  295 

The  ^'  Essays  on  the  most  Important  Subjects  in  Re- 
ligio!!,'^  twenty -five  in  number^  were  published  in  the 
years  1793,  1794 ;  "  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Progress  with 
Original  Notes/'  in  1794,  1795  ;  the  twenty  one  "  Ser- 
mons on  Select  Subjects"  with  some  Prayers  for  families 
annexed  to  them  in  1796  ;  "  The  Warrant  and  Nature 
of  Faith  in  Christ  Considered/'  in  1797 ;  and  "  Four 
Sermons  on  Repentance  unto  Life — The  Evil  of  Sin — 
The  Love  of  Christ — and  The  Promise  of  the  Holy  Spi- 
rit/' in  1802. — In  all  these  works  the  author's  aim  was 
to  explain  and  illustrate  the  great  truths  of  Christianity, 
and  to  point  out  their  holy  tendency.  They  have  all 
been  repeatedly  printed  ;  particularly  the  Essays  eight 
or  nine  times  in  England,  besides  American  editions. 
This  appears  to  have  been,  very  justly,  a  favourite  pro- 
duction, both  with  the  author  and  the  public.  It,  as  well 
as  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  was  first  published  in  numbers: 
each  Essay  forming  a  separate  number,  price  one  penny ; 
and  the  period  of  publication  being  once  a  fortnight. 
March  14,  1798,  the  author  writes,  "  I  compute  that  I 
have  printed  nearly  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand 
numbers  :  about  one  hundred  and  five  thousand  I  have 
sold  :  the  rest  I  have  dispersed" — that  is,  given  away,  or 
scattered  in  his  walks  and  journeys ;  for  in  this  way  he  was 
always  a  considerable  distributor  of  tracts.  One  of  these 
Essays,  "  on  the  Ten  Commandments,"  is  also  on  the  list 
of  the  Religious  Tract  Society,  and  is  widely  circulated 
through  that  channel. 

The  sermons  were  undertaken  at  the  instance  of  Mr. 
Wilberforce  and  the  late  Mr.  Henry  Thornton,  and 
were  published  by  subscription. — The  '^  Treatise  on 
Faith"  was  composed,  as  the  title  page  expresses,  *^with 
reference  to  various  controversies  on  the  subject."  In  a 
letter  written  at  the  time  (Dec.  29,  1796,)  the  author 


29(i  FllOM  FINISHINC;  IIIS  COMMENTARY    [CllAP.  XT. 

says:  **  I  am  about  to  wiite  a  pamphlet  on  the  sinner's 
warrant  to  believe  in  Christ,  and  the  iiaturc  of  justify- 
ing faith,  by  the  desire  of  several  of  my  brethren  ;  as 
the  American  divines,  especially  Hopkins,  with  those 
who  hold  the  negative  of  the  modern  question,  have  run 
into  one  extreme,  and  many  others  into  the  contrary, 
particularly  Mr.  Abraham  Booth  in  a  late  publication* 
I  do  not  mean  to  engage  in  controversy  ;  but  to  state 
what  I  think  the  scriptural  view  of  the  subject,  clearing 
it  from  objections,  and  guarding  against  abuses,  or  an- 
swering arguments,  without  taking  notice  of  the  indi- 
viduals who  have  urged  them." 

The  modern  question  here  mentioned,  but  happily 
unknown  in  many  parts  of  the  kingdom,  is  no  other 
than  this,  whether  it  is  the  ihitjj  of  a  sinner  to  believe  in 
Christ,  or  to  yield  any  spiritual  obedience  to  the  calls  of 
God's  word  !  and  consequently  whether  he  is  to  be  ex- 
horted to  any  such  obedience  ! 

In  the  year  1798,  several  clergymen  in  the  metro])olis, 
impressed  with  the  serious  aspect  of  our  affairs  as  a  na- 
tion, "  agreed  together  to  preach,  in  rotation,  weekly 
lectures  in  each  other's  churches  and  chapels,"  bearing 
upon  the  subject :  and  in  the  following  year  my  father 
drew  \ip  at  their  request,  and  published  with  their 
approbation,  ''  Observations  on  the  Signs  and  Duties  of 
the  Present  Times."  These  lectures  were  continued  till 
1802,  when  the  peace  of  Amiens  was  conculded,  and  my 
father  then  Closed  them  by  preaching  and  printing  a  ser- 
mon on  Psalm  cxvi.  2,  "  Because  he  hath  inclined  his 
ear  unto  me,  therefore  I  will  call  upon  him  as  long  as  I 
live."  Besides  these,  he  published  fast  sermons  in  1793 
and  1794,  and  a  thanksgiving  sermon  in  1798  :  and  ser- 

*  Entitled,  "(Had  Tidiu^-s." 


1792 — 1802.]  TO  THE  EVE  OF  HIS  LEAVING  LONDON.  297 

mons  of  the  same  description  were  included  in  the  volume 
already  noticed. 

One  sermon  may  deserve  to  be  more  particularly  men- 
tioned, because  of  the  occasion  which  produced  it.  In 
the  year  1800  was  formed  "  The  Society  for  Missions  to 
Africa  and  the  East,  instituted  by  Members  of  the  Es- 
tablished Church  ;^^  which  designation  has  been  since  ex- 
changed for  that  of  ^^The  Chruch  Missionary  Society 
for  Africa  and  the  East."  The  prosperity  to  which  this 
institution  has  attained ;  the  extent  of  its  operations ; 
and  the  divine  blessing  which  has  so  evidently  rested  on 
its  labours ;  cause  it  now  to  draw  the  attention  of  the 
Christian  World,  and  dispose  us  to  enquire,  with  feelings 
of  interest,  into  its  origin.  The  honour  of  giving  it  birth 
belongs  to  my  father  in  common  with  several  dear  friends, 
with  whom  he  esteemed  it  one  of  the  chief  blessings  of  his 
life  to  be  associated.  Among  these  (to  mention  no  sur- 
viving ones,)  were  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Newton,  Foster, 
Cecil,  Venn,  Goode,  and  that  distinguished  layman,  Mr. 
Henry  Thornton.  Mr.  Venn,  indeed,  has  been  pronoun- 
ced the  father  of  the  Society  :  and,  if  to  have  taken  a 
very  active  and  zealous  part  in  its  first  formation  ;  to 
have  had,  perhaps,  the  principal  share  in  organizing  and 
moulding  it  into  shape,  and  in  conducting  it  through  cer- 
delicate  and  difiicult  intricacies  which  it  had  to  encounter 
at  its  outset ;  entitles  him  to  his  appellation,  it  certainly 
belongs  to  him.  But,  if  to  have  been  one  of  the  first 
and  most  urgent  in  pressing  upon  his  brethren  the  duty 
and  necessity  of  forming  some  such  institution,  as  well 
as  among  the  most  active  in  carrying  the  design  into  effect, 
establishes  a  right  to  such  a  distinction,  then  must  my  fa- 
ther be  allowed  to  share  it  with  him.  And  accordingly 
he  was  thus  commemorated  in  the  Report  of  the  Society 
made  at  its  last  anniversary.    The  fact,  I  believe;  is  this : 

2P 


/i98  FROMriNTSHTNG  HIS  COMMENTARY      [ChAP.  XL 

the  London  Missionary  Society,  then  recently  formed, 
had  attracted  threat  public  notice,  and  excited  much  dis- 
cussion. Amoitg  other  places,  this  was  the  case  in  a  pri- 
vate society  of  clergymen  meeting  once  a  fortnight  for 
friendly  discussion  ;  and  the  ground  which  my  father, 
w  liose  mind  liad  always  been  peculiarly  alive  to  such  sub- 
ject«J,  there  took  was  this — that  it  was  their  bou^dcn 
duty  to  attempt  somewhat  more  than  they  had  done^  ei- 
ther by  joining  the  Missionary  Society  just  mentioned,  or 
which  would  be  much  to  be  preferred,  if  practicable, 
by  forming  a  new  one  among  members  of  the  establish- 
ment :  and  from  these  discussions  sprang  the  Church 
Missionary  Society.  My  father  says  of  it,  in  a  letter 
dated  Oct.  29,  1800:  ^- 1  had  a  considerable  share  in 
setting  tliis  business  in  motion,  and  I  should  wish  to  try 
what  can  be  done  :  but  I  am  apt  to  fear,  that,  like  most 
of  my  plans,  it  will  come  to  little.*'  It  is  needless  to  say 
with  \\  hat  joy  and  gratitude  he  lived  to  see  these  fears 
dis])ersed,  and  all  his  expectations  exceeded. — So  long 
as  he  continued  in  London,  he  acted  as  the  secretary  of 
the  Society  ;  and,  in  the  country,  at  a  subsequent  period, 
(as  we  shall  hereafter  have  occasion  to  relate,)  he  became 
the  tutor  of  its  missionaries.  At  the  anniversary,  Whit- 
Teusday,  IhOl,  he  was  called  upon  to  preach  the  first 
sernion  before  the  Society ;  which  was  published  with 
the  Report. 

1  sluill  here  insert  the  commemoration  of  his  services 
above  alluded  to,  as  made  at  the  anniversary  meeting  of 
the  Society  in  1821,  a  few  weeks  after  his  death. 

''  In  recording  the  gratitude  of  the  Society  to  its  living 
and  active  fritnds.  the  committee  are  reminded  of  the  de- 
parture to  his  eternal  rest  of  one  who  may  be  justly  de- 
non:iiiated  a  father  of  the  Society.  The  late  Reverend 
Thomas  Scott.  v\ith  his  once  active  coadjutors  and  breth- 


1792 1802.]  TO  THE  EVE  OF  HIS  LEAVING  LONDON.  299 

Xen,  Mr.  Venn  and  Mr.  Goode,  and  with  the  late  Mr. 
Terrington,  (a  steady  and  assiduous  member  of  the  com- 
mittee for  the  last  eighteen  years) — gone  also  so  their 
reward — may  be  truly  said,  with  others  who  are  still 
spared  to  labour,  to  have  laid,  in  faith  and  prayer,  the 
foundation  of  that  edifice  which  is  now  rising  to  view 
with  augmented  strength  and  usefulness  every  year. 
As  the  first  preacher  before  the  Society,  and  for  its  first 
two  years  its  secretary,  our  departed  friend, — ^ith  that 
comprehensive  knowledge  of  the  heart  and  of  scrip- 
ture, which  stamped  on  his  sentiments  an  early  maturity, 
that  for  almost  half  a  century  grew  more  mellow,  but 
without  withering  or  decay, — laid  down  for  us  those  prin- 
ciples of  action,  stimulated  us  by  those  motives,  encou- 
raged us  by  those  promises,  and  suggested  those  practical 
measures,  the  truth  and  wisdom  of  which  are  receiving 
fresh  evidence  every  returning  year.  When  he  could  no 
longer  take  a  personal  share  in  our  deliberations  and  pro- 
ceedings, he  still  rendered  to  the  Society  the  most  impor- 
tant aid,  by  charging  himself  with  the  instruction  of  sev- 
eral of  its  missionaries.  We  have  heard,  in  this  place, 
from  their  own  mouths,  the  most  grateful  testimony  to 
his  able  instructions  and  his  paternal  care  :  and  when  his 
growing  infirmities  had  disqualified  him  for  this  labour  of 
love,  he  ceased  not,  to  his  latest  hours,  to  pour  out  fer- 
vent prayers  for  the  gracious  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
on  all  the  labours  both  of  this  Society,  and  of  every  other 
kindred  institution,  which,  in  these  latter  days,  is  made 
instrumental  in  accomplishing  the  purposes  of  divine  mercy 
toward  the  world.  He  rests  from  his  labours^  and  his 
works  follow  him.^' 

Within  the  period  of  which  we  are  treating,  my  father 
also  projected  some  works  which  he  never  accomplished. 
One  was  on  the  Prophecies,  and  the  evidence  furnished 


300  FROM  FINISHING  HIS  COMMENTARY  [ChAP.  XL 

by  them  for  the  divine  inspiration  of  the  different  parts 
of  scripture.  It  appears  that  he  first  conceived  tlie  idea 
oFsiich  a  work  in  1793.  In  1796  he  informed  me  that 
he  had  ^^  in  good  earnest  set  about  it.'*  His  ])lan  was  to 
make  it,  in  some  respects,  more  comprehensive  than  Bishop 
Newton's  Dissertations,  and  throughout  more  adapted  to 
unlearned  readers.  He  intended  to  publish  it  in  small 
numbers,  after  the  manner  of  his  Essays  ;  and  hoped  by 
this  meaus  to  obtain  for  it  considerable  circulation,  and 
to  render  it  conducive  to  counteract  the  scepticism  and 
infidelity  of  the  times.  But  other  more  pressing  engage- 
ments coming  on^  the  design  was  first  suspend,  and  then 
dropped. 

Another  work,  which  I  must  much  regret  his  not  having 
executed^  was  of  my  own  suggestion,  on  my  entering  into 
orders.  It  was  to  be  a  series  of  letters  on  the  pastoral 
office  and  its  various  duties.  He  entered  heartily  into 
the  design  :  and,  being  prevented  from  accomplishing  it 
at  that  time,  resumed  it  on  his  youngest  son's  ordination, 
but  never  found  leisure  to  perform  it. 

In  1796,  as  also  in  some  subsequent  yeai»s,  the  health 
of  his  family  requiring  them  to  spend  some  time  at  the 
sea-side,  he  was  led,  with  advantage  to  his  own  health, 
to  make  numerous  voyages  in  the  packets  between  Lon- 
don and  Margate  :  and  this  circumstance  gives  us  occa- 
sion to  present  him  to  the  reader  in  a  new  situation.  His 
conduct  amid  the  motley  groupe  on  board  of  these  vessels 
was  strikingly  characteristic,  and  produced  a  variety  of 
interesting  or  amusing  occurrences,  of  which  I  can  furnish 
but  a  slight  account. — He  determined,  if  possible,  to 
make  the  new  scene,  on  which  he  was  entering,  an  occa- 
sion of  usefulness.  Instead,  therefore,  of  retiring  within 
himself,  in  a  sort  of  dignified  silence,  as  a  clergyman 


1792 — 1802.]  TO  THE  EVE  OF  HIS  LEAVING  LONDON.  301 

might  feel  inclined  to  do  under  such  circumstances,  he 
sought  conversation.  He  observed  and  inquired  into  all 
that  passed  ;  made  himself  acquainted  with  all  the  parts 
of  the  vessel,  and  the  process  of  managing  it,  the  course 
steered,  and  the  various  objects  to  be  noticed.  He  held 
himself  ready  to  take  advantage  of  all  that  occurred.  He 
rebuked  immorality,  and  encountered  scepticism  and  in- 
fidelity (then,  as  at  present,  frequently  avowed, )  wherever 
they  presented  themselves.  Thus  he  aimed  to  gain  atten- 
tion, and  to  find  an  opening  for  the  instruction  which  he 
desired  to  convey.  In  general  he  succeeded.  Frequently 
he  entered  into  argument  against  the  corrupt  principles 
of  the  day,  both  religious  and  political ;  on  which  occa- 
sions, by  uniting,  as  he  could  readily  do,  much  vivacity 
with  his  accustomed  force,  and  always  maintaining  good 
temper,  (for  he  determined  that  nothing  should  affront 
him,)  he  generally  drew  a  company  around  him,  carried 
conviciion  to  many  by  standers,  and  often  silenced  his  op- 
ponents. The  discussion  commonly  terminated  in  a  dis- 
tribution of  tracts,  chiefly  his  own  publications,  which  he 
always  carried  with  him  in  travelling,  for  the  purpose. 
His  maxim  was,  that,  if  his  books  sold^  he  could  afford 
such  a  dispersion ;  if  they  did  not,  he  was  only  giving 
away  waste  paper.  It  may  be  added,  that  his  conduct 
on  board  gained  him  much  esteem  among  the  sailors,  who 
always  welcomed  him,  and  described  him  as  '  the  gentle- 
man whom  nothing  could  make  angry.' 

Though  however  he  would  never  be  offended  himself, 
even  by  scurrility  and  abuse,  yet  he  sometimes  deeply 
offended  others,  by  reproving  their  impiety,  or  exposing 
their  attempts  to  defend  what  was  contrary  to  good  mo- 
rals. One  instance  it  may  be  amusing  to  mention,  as  fur- 
nishing a  specimen  of  the  coarseness  with  which  he  was 
sometimes   assailed.      A  man,  who  it   appeared  was  a 


J02     VROM  FINISHfNG  HIS  COMMENTARY,  &C.  [ChAP.  XI. 

brewer  in  Loiulon,  having  for  some  time  endeavoured,  in 
his  way,  to  support  the  cause  of  irreligion,  and  feeling 
himself  foiled  by  his  father's  arguments  and  animadver- 
sions, at  length  so  far  lost  his  temper,  as  to  wish  that  he 
'  had  him,  and  a  dozen  more  such  parsons,  at  his  dispo- 
sal— he  would  boil  them  in  his  copper  !'  .  Such  an  ebul- 
lition had,  of  course,  the  effect  of  raising  the  voice  of 
the  whole  company  against  its  author  ;  who,  in  conse- 
quence, withdrew,  and  was  seen  no  more  during  the  re- 
mainder of  the  voyage. 

On  other  occasions,  the  result  was  very  different ;  and 
once,  at  least,  at  the  general  request  of  the  company,  he 
expounded  and  prayed  with  them  in  the  cabin,  while  the 
vessel  lay  at  anchor. 

Few  of  us,  I  presume,  would  feel  ourselves  competent 
to  adopt  such  a  line  of  conduct,  in  a  similar  situation  : 
but  let  us  not  therefore  censure  what  is  above  our  reach. 
In  one  who  could  worthily  sustain  this  part,  and  was  in- 
duced to  do  so  by  zeal  for  God  and  unfeigned  love  for  the 
souls  of  men,  I  must  pronounce  it  highly  honourable.  We 
may  venture  to  say  also  that  it  is  borne  out  by  the  high- 
est examples.  What  other  than  this  was  the  mode  of 
teaching  employed  by  the  prince  of  the  philosophers,  by 
one  of  the  chief  of  the  apostles,  and  by  Him  who  was 
greater,  beyond  comparison,  than  all  sages,  and  even  than 
all  inspired  apostles  ?"* 

*  See  the  Memorabilia  of  Socrates  ;  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles, 
xvii.  16 — 18,  and  xxvii ;  and  the  Gospels,  passim. 


1792 — 1801.]        LETTERS.  303 


CHAPTER  XII. 


LETTERS  BELONGING  TO  THE  PERIOD  OF  THE  PRECEDINf^ 

CHAPTER. 

Having  thus  detailed  such  particulars  as  I  have  been 
able  to  collect  relative  to  the  time  that  my  father  conti- 
nued in  London  after  the  completion  of  his  Commentary, 
I  shall  now  present  the  reader  with  various  additional  ex- 
tracts of  letters,  illustrative  of  his  ministerial  situation. 
his  views,  and  the  state  of  his  mind  at  that  period. 

To  his  correspondent  in  Northumberland,  the  distant 
connexion  by  marriage,  already  repeatedly  mentioned,  he 
thus  writes. 

"  September  3,  1794.  The  years  that  you  were  more 
immediately  acquainted  with  me,  were  certainly  the  most 
comfortable,  in  respect  of  religion,  that  I  ever  expe- 
rienced. I,  as  well  as  you,  have  since  made  many  pain- 
ful discoveries  about  my  own  heart,  and  have  had  far 
more  acquaintance  with  the  devices  of  Satan  than  I  then 
had  :  yet  hitherto  the  Lord  hath  helped ;  and  the  grand 
principles,  which  I  then  inculcated,  rise  in  my  estimation 
every  year  :  nor  can  that,  which  really  humbles  us,  even- 
tually do  us  harm My  situation  as   a  minister  is 

replete  with  difficulties,  and  I  do  not  see  the  fruits 
of  my  labours  as  I  used  to  do ;  yet  I  trust  I  do  not  la- 
bour in  vain We  have  a  peaceable  habitation  : 

and,  after  all   humiliating  circumstances,  are  favoured 


•A 


•^04  LKTTEKs.       [Chap.  XII. 

witli  the  intimate  IVieiiclship  of  some  of  the  most  excel- 
lent of  the  earth.  Notliiiig  but  sin  and  the  effects  of  it 
could  prevent  our  happiness  :  for,  though  1  am  often 
very  poorly  with  the  asthma,  and  other  comj)hiints,  and 
my  wife  is  far  from  healthy  ;  that  would  not  mar  our  com- 
fort, if  we  could  live  a  more  holy  life.  But  happiness  is 
reserved  for  heaven;  and  hope,  with  a  few  earnests,  must 
suflice  on  earth.  We  are  patients  in  an  hospital;  regi- 
men, medicine,  and  cure  are  at  present  chiefly  to  be  at- 
tended to  ;  we  shall  shortly  be  discharged  cured,  and  that 
will  eternally  make  up  for  all. — In  the  mean  time  we 
must  continue  to  live  by  faith  in  our  crucified  Redeemer, 
whose  blood  cleanseth  from  all  sin. — And,  though,  like 
pardoned  rebels,  who  have  been  lamed  in  rebellion,  our 
services  manifest  our  sinfulness  ;  yet  let  us  pray  to  be  ena- 
bled to  aim  at  adorning  and  recommending  his  gospel, 
and  to  declare  his  love,  and  the  freedom  of  his  service, 
to  those  around  us,  and  those  that  shall  come  after  us. — 
Pray  for  me  and  mine. — The  Lord  bless  you  and  yours." 
^^  November  14,  1794.  I  trust  the  Lord  will  enable 
you  to  go  forward  with  encreasing  earnestness  and  com- 
fort, and  that  your  united  prayers,  example,  and  endea- 
vours, will  be  prospered  to  the  good  of  others  belonging 
to  you,  who  are  yet  far  off;  and  especially  that  your 
children  will  be  brought  up  for  God,  and  live  to  his 
glory.  In  these  things  we  may  all  hope  to  bring  forth 
fruit,  that  shall  remain  when  we  are  gone  to  a  better 
world. — But,  alas  !  we  have  so  many  things  to  conllict 
with,  both  in  our  own  hearts,  and  around  us,  that  we 
are  often  discouraged  in  our  prayers  and  endeavoures 
for  others  ;  and  Satan  seems  to  stand  by  as  an  accuser,  to 
represent  that  we  are  not  proper  persons  so  be  made  in- 
struments of  good  to  otliers,  who  are  so  sinful  in  all  res- 
pects oui^elves.      Yet  this  is  a  mere   temptation :  the 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  305 

Lord  does  all  his  work  by  instruments  who  are  both  un- 
worthy and  insufficient  in  themselves  ;  and  they,  whose 
effectual  fervent  prayers  have  availed  much^  most  cer- 
tainly had  as  humble  an  opinion  of  themselves  and  their 
services,  as  we  can  have  ;  yea^  more  so,  in  proportion  to 
their  superior  holiness. — It  is  in  this  attention  to  our 
families,  connexions,  and  circles,  and  by  our  prayers  for 
the  church  of  God,  and  for  our  country,  that  we  should 
endeavour  to  serve  God  and  our  generation  in  this  turbu- 
lent and  perilous  time,  when  every  thing  externally 
dreadful  is  apprehended  by  many  from  outward  appear- 
ances, and  when  the  spiritual  mind  will  apprehend  still 
greater  evils  from  the  atheism,  infidelity,  impiety,  and 
enormous  profligacy,  which  make  such  rapid  progress  on 
every  side.  But  we  should  be  careful  to  leave  political 
disputes  to  worldly  people  :  for  engaging  in  them,  on 
either  side,  discredits  the  gospel,  and  damps  the  soul  as 
to  religion,  and  brings  a  curse  into  every  society  into 
which  it  finds  admission.'' 

^•February  11,  1795.  Those  professors  who  seem 
not  to  feel  such  conflicts,  and  find  no  such  difficulty  in 
living  up  to  their  rule,  evidently  aim  low,  and  not  meas- 
ure their  experiences  and  attainments  by  the  scriptural 
standard.  The  blessing  is  pronounced  by  our  Lord  on 
those  that  hunger  aud  thirst  after  righteousness  ;  but 
hunger  and  thirst  imply  the  desire,  the  ardent  desire,  of 
what  is  not  yet  obtained  ;  and  in  heaven,  when  such  gra- 
cious desires  shall  be  fully  answered,  we  shall  hunger 
no  more^  and  thirst  no  more.  In  the  mean  time,  it  is 
well  to  set  our  mark  high,  that  we  may  press  forward^ 
forgetting  the  things  that  are  behind,  and  reaching 
forth  to  those  that  are  before  :  and,  as  far  as  I  can  judge 
by  your  letter,  this  is  the  present  frame  of  your  spirit. 
When  we  feel  our  need  of  forgiveness  in  this  and  the 

2Q 


306  LETTERS.  [Chap.  Xll. 

other  respect,  and  oi"  grace  to  fill  up  our  station  properly 
to  the  honour  of  the  gospel,  we  know  what  to  pray  for, 
and  shall  pray  with  our  hearts  :  hut,  when  our  convictions 
are  more  general,  and  we  are  not  so  particularly  acquain- 
ted with  our  wants,  enemies,  and  evil  propensities,  our 
prayers  will  be  more  languid  ;  and  words,  good  in  gene- 
ral, but  not  feelingly  the  language  of  our  hearts,  will 
constitute  our  petitions. — For  my  part,  I  am  not  able, 
after  twenty  years  endeavouring  after  it,  to  rise  a  whit 
above  a  po«r  sinner,  trusting  in  free  mercy,  through  the 
atoning  blood ;  and  a  poor  beggar,  who  might  as  easily 
live  in  health  without  food,  as  serve  God  one  day  without 
fresh  supplies  of  wisdom,  strength,  and  grace,  sought,  in 
earnest  prayer,  from  the  fulness  of  Christ.  If  this  be 
neglected,  I  find  all  good  declines,  all  evil  revives  :  and 
am  sensible  that  nothing  which  has  passed  would  keep 
me  from  the  vilest  crimes,  of  which  my  wicked  heart  is 
capable,  if  this  could  be  wholly  suspended.  Yet,  I  trust, 
the  Lord  does  put,  and  will  put  hUfear  into  my  hearty 
that  I  may  not  depart  from  him:  and  my  view  of  finjil 
perseverance  is  this,  that  the  Lord  has  engaged  to  keep 
me  (if  indeed  I  am  a  believer,)  empty,  poor,  hungering, 
praying,  and  living  by  faith  on  the  fulness  of  Christ,  till 
he  bring  me  to  glory  :  and  then  all  the  painful  experi- 
ence I  have  had  of  my  own  weakness  and  sinfulness,  will 
tune  my  songs  of  praise  to  him  that  washed  me  from  my 
sins  in  his  own  bloody  through  the  countless  ages  of  eter- 
nity.— Yet  God  forbid  that  I  should  abuse  the  gospel  ! 
I  trust  I  only  desire  to  live  that  I  may  serve  the  Lord, 
and  recommend  his  gospel  :  and  perfect  holiness  and 
obedience  are  the  heaven  I  hope  and  long  for.  But  the 
more  I  do  in  the  Lord's  service,  the  greater  debtor  I  am 
to  his  grace,  for  the  will,  power,  pardon,  and  acceptance : 
and  the  more  I  aim  to  do,  the  deeper  sense  I  liave  of  ray 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  307 

need  of  the  blood  and   righteousness  of  Christ,  as  my 
only  title  to  the  heavenly  inheritance. 

"  Perhaps  this  account  of  my  feelings  may  shew  you, 
that  your  case  is  not  singular ;  and  I  feel  myself  peculiarly 
interested  in  your  concerns  and  that  of  your  relatives  ; 
to  whom,  with  your  minister,  pray  give  my  kind  remem- 
brance.— I  feel  the  same  difficulties  also  about  my  child- 
ren, of  which  you  speak  :  but  I  endeavour  to  use  means 
and  to  commit  them  to  the  Lord,  and  thus  to  cast  my  care 
on  him.  Yet  even  here  I  need  forgiveness ;  and  am  con- 
scious that  neither  my  example,  prayers,  nor  instructions, 
are  what  they  should  be.  Thus  boasting  is  excluded, 
I  have  no  claim  for  myself  or  them,  nor  any  plea,  but 
God's  mercy,  and  the  encouraging  promises  of  his  word ; 
which,  though  general,  give  hope.  And  thus  I  proceed, 
and  leave  the  matter  with  him. — Mr.  Newton  is  tolerably 
well :  perhaps  the  happiest  man  to  be  met  with.  But  he 
grows  old,  and  seems  in  all  respects  to  break. — I  hope  I 
shall  not  forget  to  pray  for  you :  I  beg  the  prayers  of 
you  all,  for  I  much  need  them. — I  remain  most  sincerely, 
your  affectionate  friend  and  well  wisher.'^ 

Soon  after  this  period  my  correspondence  with  him, 
first  from  Cambridge,  and  afterwards  from  Hull,  began. 
I  only  wish  that  what  I  insert  from  his  letters  may  not 
appear  to  reflect  upon  myself,  for  having  no  more  pro- 
fited by  such  excellent  advice. 

The  following  extract  from  his  first  letter  to  me  at  col- 
lege, may  convey  useful  counsel  to  young  persons,  par- 
ticularly to  those  in  a  similar  situation  : — 

^^  November  2,  1795.  You  have  hitherto  been  kept 
greatly  out  of  the  way  of  worldly  associates,  and  assure 
yourself  you  have  lost  nothing  by  it :  for  the  more  they 
are  known,  the  clearer  must  be  the  conviction  to  every 
reflecting  mind,  that  they  can  be  of  no  advantage  to  a 


308  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIL 

man,  in  any  sense,  withoiit  a  tenfold  greater  disadvantage. 
Endeavour,  therelbrc,  to  cultivate  a  courteous,  kind,  and 
cheerFuI  dis])osition  and  behaviour  towards  all  sorts  of 
persons:  avoiding nioroseness,  aiTectation,  andsingularity^ 
in  things  indiflerent;  hut  adn^it  no  one  to  your  familiarity, 
who  docs  notseemtoyou,  and  to  more  experienced  judges, 
to  have  the  fear  and  love  of  God  in  his  heart.  Conciliate 
by  an  amiable  deportment  such  as  are  strangers  to  the 
ways  of  religion,  in  order  to  allure  them  up  to  your 
ground  ;    hut  take  not  a  single  step  down  upon  their 
ground  ;  lest,  instead  of  your  drawing  them  out  of  the 
mire,  they  draw  you  in.     If  you  act  consistently  and 
pi'udently,  and  by  a  moderate  attention  to  your  studies, 
in  suhserviency  to  the  one  thing  needful,  and  to  future 
usefulness,  secure  a  reputable  standing  in  the  college  ; 
the  careless  or  vicious  may  affect  to  despise  you,  but  in 
their  hearts  they  will  respect  you.     I  say  a  moderatt 
application  ;  for  I  apprehend  that  very  great  exertions 
are  not  only  injurious  to  the  health  and  spirits;  tend  to 
form  a  man  to  habits  that  are  unpleasant,  or  to  a  kind  of 
oddity ;  and  exceedingly  interfere  with  the  growth  of  grace 
and  every  holy  affection  in  the  soul  ;  but  they  counteract 
their  own  end  ;  blunt  and  overstretch  the  mental  powers  ; 
and,  after  surprising  progress  for  a  time,  incapacitate  a 
person  for  making  any  progress  at  all.     Ambition  of  dis- 
tinction, more  than  love  of  knowledge,   is  the  spur  to 
this  too  eager  course  :  but  neither  one  nor  the  other  should 
be  your  primum  mobile ;  but  a  desire  to  acquire  that 
competency  of  useful  knowledge,  which  may  lit  you  for 
glorifying  God,  and  serving  your  generation.     This  will 
also  teach  you  to  talce  care  of  your  health  and  spirits  ;  to 
accustom  yourself  to  corporal  as  well  as  mental  exertion ; 
(the  want  of  which  is  severely  felt  by  most  of  our  minis- 
ters who  are  academical  men  ;)  to  cultivate  that  kind  of 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  309 

behaviour,  which  may  render  you  as  acceptable  as  truth 
and  conscientiousness  will  let  a  man  be  in  this  world — 
the  want  of  which  is  one  of  my  principle  disadvantages  ; 
and  so  to  travel  on  at  a  sober  rate,  without  over- pushing 
the  horse  at  the  beginning  of  the  journey. — Excessive 
eagerness  in  any  particular  study  has  also  this  disadvan- 
tage, that  it  is  apt  to  render  a  man  rather  learned  than 
wise^  or  even  knowing  ;  as  over- eating  renders  a  man 
full,  but  does  not  nourish  him.  They  who  read  too  much 
do  not  digest :  they  learn  what  others  say,  but  they  do 
not  make  it  their  own  by  reflection,  or  disfinguisli  be- 
tween the  precious  and  the  vile.  But  moderate  study,  with 
frequent  pauses  for  reflection,  useful  conversation,  and 
exercise,  adds  more  to  real  knowledge,  and  leaves  time 
to  apply  it  to  practical  uses. — You  certainly  should  not 
waste  time  ;  but  stinting  yourself  to  so  much  of  this  or 
the  other  every  day,  may  cramp  you  ;  render  your  mind 
uncomfortable ;  and  unfit  you  for  the  exercises  of  religion 
— without  which  nothing  else  will  really  prosper.- — I 
would  advise  you  to  write  your  own  thoughts  on  subjects 
frequently  ;  and  try  to  get  the  habit  of  doing  it  in  Latin  : 
it  may  be  of  use  to  you  some  time,  beyond  what  you  now 
perceive. — But  whatever  you  read  or  write,  compare  all 
with  the  Bible  :  study  divinity  as  a  Christian,  and  as  one 
intended  to  be  a  minister  ;  and  other  things  only  in  subor- 
dination to  it :  for  this  is  your  general^  and  your  parti- 
eular  calling  too. — I  pray  the  Lord  to  be  your  Guard, 
Guide,  Father,  and  Comforter!'^ 

Having  consulted  him  on  the  subject  of  joining  some 
small  companies  of  young  men,  who  met  in  college  for 
religious  exercises,  on  the  Sunday  evenings,  I  received 
the  following  answer : 

^^  November  13,  1795.  There  are  two  ways  in  which 
any  practice  may  be  deemed  irregular  5  and  in  each  of 


no  LKTTKR8.  [ChAP.  XII. 

them  conceal inent  may  perhaps  be  expedient.  A  prac- 
tice (good  in  itself,  I  mean,)  maybe  irregular,  as  contra- 
ry to  the e.rpnss  ndcs  of  the  society  to  which  a  man  has 
voluntary  joined  himself:  or  it  may  be  irregular,  as  con- 
trary to  the  customs^  notions,  or  inclinations  of  such  persons 
as  have  influence  in  that  society  ;  and  thus  it  may  seem 
to  oppose  their  authority,  by  opposing  their  private 
ivill.  Thus  clergymen  often,  in  some  particulars,  act 
contrary  to  the  wishes  of  their  diocesan,  and  seem  to  op- 
pose his  authority ;  when  they  do  not  act  contrary  to 
any  of  those  laws,  by  which  his  authority  is  exercised 
and  limited. — If  authority  be  absolute,  we  ought  not  to 
enter  willingly  into  any  society,  without  determining  to 
conform  in  all  things  to  the  will  of  the  ruler :  if  limited, 
we  should  purpose  to  conform  to  the  extent  of  those  lim- 
itations. I  suppose  the  practice  of  your  friends  is  not 
contrary  to  the  express  rules  of  the  college,  or  of  the 
university  ;  and,  as  to  the  contrariety  to  the  sentiments 
or  inclinations  of  such  persons  as  evidently  do  not  favour 
vital  godliness,  I  do  not  think  that  any  real  objection : 
though  the  express  prohibition  of  one  in  authority,  even 
if  it  were  not  strictly  legal,  would  have  great  weight 
in  my  mind,  where  the  practice  was  not  an  essential  duty. 
— As  far  as  these  two  things,  namely,  an  express  ride 
and  an  express  pi^ohibition,  do  not  interfere,  I  think  you 
are  quite  at  liberty  to  use  every  means,  that  appears  to 
you,  and  your  pious  friends  and  seniors,  conducive  to  your 
mutual  edification  :  and  even  an  express  rule,  if  grown 
absolete,  and  disused  by  general  consent,  does  not  appear, 
in  all  cases,  an  exception,  unless  those  in  authority  declare 
their  purpose  of  exacting  obedience  to  it. 

''\{  on  such  grounds  as  these  you  and  your  friends  see 
the  way  clear,  and  have  no  consciousness  of  acting  con- 
trary to   actual    or   implicit    engagements,   concealment 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  Jll 

seems  to  be  no  more  than  a  matter  deemed  at  present  ex- 
pedient ;  as  we  do  not  think  it  right  to  tell  every  one 
when  we  retire  for  prayer,  or  when  we  give  to  the  poor. 
Yet  it  appears  to  me  advisable  not  to  be  too  anxious  about 
concealment  ;  lest  that  anxiety  and  precaution  should 
appear,  which  might  excite  more  suspicion,  or  give  more 
ground  for  censure,  than  the  thing  itself.  There  is  a 
modest,  prudent  secresy,  and  there  is  a  timid  jealous  se- 
cresy,  which  leads  into  temptation,  and  is  quite  needless 
in  a  good  cause,  and  with  a  good  conscience. 

''  I  do  not  quite  understand  whether  your  friends  ac- 
tually keep  out  of  the  reach  of  the  Conventicle  Act,  or 
not.  If  no  more  than  five  meet  in  one  place,  I  can  see 
no  manner  of  objection  on  the  score  of  ecclesiastical  irre- 
gularity. If  they  do  meet  in  greater  numbers,  the  mat- 
ter demands  more  consideration.  I  look  on  that  Act  as  a 
direct  opposition  of  human  authority  to  the  word  of  God  ; 
and  I  cannot  deem  myself  bound,  in  foro  conscientimy  to 
obey  it :  but  at  the  same  time  expediency  may  often  sug- 
gest obedience.  It  better  becomes  ministers  and  others  of 
some  standing  to  deviate  from  the  injunctions  of  a  bad 
law,  and  by  their  example  to  protest  against  it,  and  to 
venture  the  consequences  ;  while  their  conduct  in  all 
other  things  has  long  shewn  them  willing  to  obey  in  all 
things  lawful ;  than  young  men  to  set  out  with  such  dis- 
regard to  any  rules,  as  may  lead  others  to  think  they 
mean  to  set  up  their  own  will  as  their  rule. — Places  and 

connexions  also  make  a  diiference 

^'  A  very  strong  reason  indeed  w^ould  be  necessary  to 
justify  your  declining  the  proposal  of  your  friends,  as  it 
would  tend  to  interrupt  that  cordiality,  on  which  much 
of  your  comfort,  and  security  against  other  connex- 
ions, depends.  At  the  same  time  I  feel  strongly  the  force 
of  your  other  objection  ;  and  would  have  you  plead  for 


312  LETTERS.  [Chap.  Xll. 

being,  for  a  time,  a  mere  hearer.  You  may  urge  that 
you  have  heard  me  say?  that  the  seniors  in  all  such  so- 
cieties should  chiefly  take  the  lead ;  as  it  has  an  unhap- 
py efFect  on  many  young  minds  to  conduct  religious  ex- 
ercises too  soon,  or  too  often,  in  the  presence  of  their  su- 
periors  Whatever  may  be  my  engagements,  I  can 

have  no  more  pleasant,  perhaps  no  more  useful  employ- 
ment, than  what  relates  to  your  spiritual  progress." 

The  following  account  of  the  methods  adopted  by  one, 
who  had  studied  divine  truth  with  so  much  success,  will 
doubtless  be  interesting  to  the  reader. 

"  December  10,  1795.  I  know  not  what  further  di- 
rections to  give  you  respecting  the  manner  of  inquiring 
after  truth,  and  seeking  to  have  it  more  deeply  impress- 
ed on  the  heart,  and,  as  it  were,  wrought  into  the  judg- 
ment and  affections,  than  are  already  in  print.  I  find 
it  exceedingly  diflicult  to  keep  my  attention  fixed,  or  to 
get  my  heart  suitably  affected,  in  reading  and  meditating 
upon  truths,  which  have  become  obvious  and  ft\miliar  by 
daily  study  :  but  there  are  times  when  I  find,  that,  while 
I  try  to  muse  on  the  subject,  a  fire,  as  it  were,  kindles, 
and  contemplation  terminates  in  adorning  gratitude  and 
admiring  love. — In  general,  I  think,  I  have  found  it  ad- 
vantageous sometimes  to  read  the  scriptures  with  such 
exactness,  as  to  weigh  every  expression,  and  its  connex- 
ions, as  if  I  were  about  to  preach  on  every  verse  :  and 
then  to  apply  the  result  to  my  own  case,  character,  ex- 
perience, and  conduct,  as  if  it  had  been  directly  address- 
ed to  me — not  as  a  new  promise  or  revelation,  but  as  a 
message  containing  warning,  caution,  reproof,  exhorta- 
tion, encouragement,  or  direction,  according  to  my  pre- 
vious or  present  state  of  mind,  and  my  peculiar  circum- 
stances. In  short,  to  make  the  passages  into  a  kind  of 
sermons,  as  if  about  to  preach  to  others,  and  then  to  turn 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  313 

the  whole  application  on  myself,  as  far  as  suited  to  my 
case  ;   as  if  another,  who  fully  knew  me,  had  been  ad- 
dressing me. — At  other  times  I  have  read  a  passage  more 
generally,  and  then  selected  two  or  three  of  the  most  im- 
portant observations  from  it,  and  endeavoured  to  employ 
my  mind  in  meditation  on   them,  and  to  consider  how 
they  bore  on  the  state  of  my  heart,  or  on  my  past  life, 
or  on  those  things  which   I  heard  or  observed  in  the 
world  or  the  church  ;  and  to  compare  them  with  the  va- 
riety of  sentiment,  experiences,  conduct,  or  prominent 
characters,  with  which  we  become  gradually  more  and 
more  acquainted. — Thus  I  have  endeavoured  to  read  the 
scriptures  and  to  use  them  as  a  touchstone  to  distinguish 
the  precious  from  the  vile,  both  at  home  and  abroad.— 
At  other  tira^s,  having  perhaps  heard  or  read  the  opi- 
nions of  different  men  on  any  disputed  subject,  I  have,  in 
my  daily  reading  of  the  scriptures,  constantly  kept  those 
opinions  in  view,  that  I  might  at  length  form  my  judg- 
ment on  which  side  truth  lay.     In  doing  this,  I  have  al- 
ways aimed  to  keep  my  mind  from  the  two  extremes,  on 
the  one  hand,  of  giving  up  my  own  opinion,  from  a  kind 
of  false  humility,  and  deference  for  men,  without  being 
previously  convinced  that  I  had  been  mistaken ;  and,  on 
the  otherTiand,  of  assuming  my  opinion  to  be  truth,  so  as 
to  exclude  light,  especially  if  it  came  from  an  enemy,  or 
a  person  not  entitled  to  much  deference.     So  that  I  have 
always  aimed  to  be  open  to  conviction  ;  to  bring  every 
man's  probable  opinion  to  the  touchstone,  and  to  give  it  a 
fair  trial,  if  not  tried  before  ;  but  not  to  receive  it,  with- 
out plainly  perceiving  its  agreement  with  the  scripture ; 
and  at  the  same  time  to  aim,  that  my  heart  might  be  suitably 
affected  with  the  conclusions  of  my  understanding — in 
which  I  have  pricipally  failed.     But,  a  spirit  of  continual 
prayer^  mixed  with  reading,  has  been  my  principal  help 

2R 


314  LETTERS.  [Chap.  Xll. 

in  all  these  things ;  without  which  either  self-wisdom  or 
indolent  dependenc  e  on  human  teaching  will  surely  pre- 
vail. 

"  Fchruary  13.   1790.     I  think  you  are  very  right  in 
cultivating  general  knowledge.  .  .  I  trust,  however,  you 
will  not  neglect  the  peculiar  studies  of  the  place,  so  as  not 
to  appear  with  credit  on   proper  occasions.    The  object 
in  all  your  studies  should   he,  neither  celebrity,  advan- 
tage, nor  knowledge,  for  its  own  sake  ;    but  furniture  to 
enable   you  to  serve  Ood  and  your  generation  :  and  as 
much  credit  as  may  give  weight  to  your  endeavours  of 
that  kind.     Any  friend  that  has  cultivated  general  know- 
ledge successfully,  will  give  you  hints  on  the  best  method 
of  doing  it ;  and  gleaning  seems  to  me  an  important  mat- 
ter.    Learn  from  every  body  :  be  selfish  in  this  respect : 
get  all  you  can,  not  only  from  superior  men,  but  from  the 
most  inferior.     But  be  sure  you  compare  all   your  real 
or  supposed  knowledge  with  the  word  of  God.   If  real,  it 
will  elucidate,  and  be  elucidated  by  it :  if  not,  it  will  be  de- 
tected and   exposed  by  the  touchstone. — At  some  time 
or  other,  I  would  advise  you  to  study  well  the  evidences 
of  revelation  ;  not  merely  in  a  general   way,  but  so  as 
to  be  master  of  the  subject.     Perhaps  it  may  be  soon 
enough  at  present  :  but  it  is  a  matter  of  great  impor- 
tance in  this  age  especially. — Above  all,  cultivate  per- 
sonal religion.     Let  nothing  be  an  excuse  to  your  mind 
for  being  slight  in  that  matter.     Even  useful  labours  foi' 
the  good  of  others   may  be  separated  from  Qiligeiice  in 
the  concerns  of  our  own  souls  :  but  it  is  this  which  must 
bring  a  blessing  on  all  else,  and  cause  it  to  proceed  with 
life  and  vigour." 

The  next  letter  treats  of  an  important  point  of  theology, 
on  which  much  indistinctness  of  conception  appears  fre- 
quently to  prevail. 


1792 — 1801.]        LETTERS.  313 

"  May  7,  1796.  I  have  not  above  a  sheet  to  write  for 
the  sermons,  or  rather  the  prayers ;  and  then  I  mean  to 
rest  a  while  ;  that  is  from  fagging  as  I  have  lately 
done.*  My  parishioners,  or  elerk  (who  is  a  plaslerei^) 
have  shut  up  my  church  in  Bread  Street,  to  beautify  : 
so  that  my  little  congregation,  which  rather  increased  of 
late,  will  now  be  dispersed,  and  I  shall  have  all  to  begin 
over  again.  All  these  things  are  against  me  !  But  all, 
I  trust,  will  be  for  me.  ...  I  do  not  think  you  need  to 
have  crossed  out  what  you  wrote  about  Edwards'' — Pre- 
sident Edwards  on  the  love  of  God  ;  that  it  is  not  merely 
gratitude,  but  includes  a  delight  in  the  holy  excellency  of 
the  divine  character  and  perfections.  '^  I  firmly  believe 
that and never  read  him,  with  sufficient  at- 
tention and  impartiality,  fully  to  understand  that  part  of 
his  plan.  He  may  express  himself,  at  some  times,  too  ab- 
solutely ;  but,  if  we  leave  out  the  glorious  perfections  of 
the  true  God,  which  are  his  loveliness,  or  that  especially 
for  which  he  should  be  loved,  how  shall  we  distinguish 
him  from  idols  ?  I  do  not  mean  from  images,  but  from 
imaginary  deities,  the  creatures  of  men's  fancy ;  who 
think  God  such  an  one  as  themselves,  and  so  worship 
and  love  their  own  invention  and  similitude,  instead  of 
that  glorious  Being,  who  makes  himself  known  to  us  by 
immediate  revelation.  Even  in  exercising  gratitude  to 
God,  I  must  take  in  the  consideration  of  his  infinite 
greatness,  holiness,  and  excellency,  to  form  a  proper 
estimate  of  the  favours  bestowed  on  so  mean  and  vile 
a  sinner;  or  my  gratitude  will  be  no  more  than  self- 
love  reflected  ;  at  least  it  will  not  be  a  pious  and  holy 
affection . — The  whole  plan  of  the  gospel  is  intended 
to  exhibit  the  loveliness  of  Jehovah,  in  all  his  harmo- 

*  The  answer  to  Paine  was  completed  in  the  same  mouth  with 
the  volume  of  Sermons. 


316     .  I.ETTIiHS.  [ClIAF.   Xll. 

Dions  exi elleiuies  :  and  shall  we  not  include  that  lovc- 
lintjss  in  loving  him  ?  I  may  be  thanhfid  to  a  man 
whose  character  I  deem  odious  ;  I  may  love  the  man  who 
never  shewed  me  any  kindness.  But  love  of  excellency, 
desire  of  union  and  conformity,  gratitude,  zeal,  &c.  all 
unite  in  the  love  of  God,  which  both  law  and  gospel  re- 
quire of  us. — To  love  God  •  for  his  own  sake,'  does  not 
mean  so  loving  him,  as  to  have  no  regard  to  our  own  hap 
pineSs  at  all ;  but  so  as  to  seek  our  happiness  in  admiring, 
serving,  and  glorifying  him  ;  in  bearing  his  image,  and 
enjoying  his  favour.  If  Edwards  speaks,  at  some  times, 
rather  more  strongly  than  this  seems  to  imply,  I  am 
persuaded,  from  the  general  tenour  of  his  writings,  that 
he  does   not   mean   any  thing   inconsistent  with  it. — I 

do  not  think  that and meant  to  exclude  love 

of  the  divine  excellency,  as  well  as  gratitude  for  mer- 
cies bestowed  upon  us  ;  but  merely  to  oppose  an  ab- 
stract notion,  which  they  erroneously  suppose  the  Ame- 
rican divines  to  have  advanced.  At  the  same  time,  I 
think  they  and  many  others  have  imbibed,  and  do  propa- 
gate, an  unhappy  prejudice  against  these  writers  ;  and, 
for  fear,  of  their  system,  they  often  speak  inconsistently 
with  themselves,  and  seem  to  be  without  fixed  senti- 
ments in  this  particular  ;  and  countenance  certain  sen- 
timents, which,  did  they  see  their  tendency,  they  would 
abhor.  As  to  the  text — We  love  him,  because  he  first 
loved  us — it  can  oiil}  mean,  that  we  should  never  have 
loved  God,  had  he  not  first  loved  us  ;  and,  if  we  do  now 
love  him  with  genuine  alFection,  it  is  full  proof  that  we  are 
the  objects  of  his  love  ;  this  being  the  seal  of  his  spirit  in 
our  hearts. 

'^  But  I  have  written  more  than  I  can  fairly  afford.  I 
would  have  you  endeavour  to  avoid  all  prejudices,  as 
much  as  possible ;  and  fairly,  in  humility  and  with  prayer, 


1792 — 1801.]  L&TTERSo  317 

to  give  different  authors  a  careful  examination  :  not  too 
many  at  a  time,  or  as  if  it  were  necessary  to  make  up  your 
mind  on  every  subject ;  but  deliberately,  and  with  much 
exercise  of  your  own  thoughts  on  the  various  views  set 
before  you/^ 

I  would  here  just  add,  that,  even  if  any  persons  should 
be  of  opinion  that  the  text  quoted  (1  John  iv.  19)  speaks 
more  directly  of  the  love  of  gratitude,  it  would  only  prove, 
what  I  apprehend  no  one  wishes  to  deny,  that  favours 
received  form  one  ground  of  that  complex  affection  which 
is  styled  the  love  of  God  ;  not  that  this  is  the  only  ground, 
or  that  no  stress  is  to  be  laid  on  the  love  of  moral  esteem 
for  the  divine  character. — One  great  reason  for  insisting 
on  the  principles  of  this  letter  is,  that  even  a  wicked  man, 
taking  for  granted,  on  whatever  grounds,  (as  it  is  to  be 
feared  many  have  done,)  that  he  enjoys  the  favour  of 
God,  and  is  an  heir  of  all  the  blessings  of  which  he  reads 
in  the  scriptures,  may,  on  that  erroneous  assumption,  feel 
a  flow  of  gratitude,  which  he  may  mistake  for  the  love  of 
God,  and  jthus  be  confirmed  in  his  delusion,  while  his 
heart  is  really  at  enmity  with  God  ;  and  that  this  error 
is  best  guarded  against,  by  urging  the  necessity  of  cordial 
reconciliation  to  the  divine  holiness,  and  delight  in  the 
perfections  of  the  divine  character. 

The  following  letter  to  a  lady  on  a  popular  volume  of 
hymns  arose  out  of  his  visits  to  Margate.  It  points  out 
some  important  distinctions,  often  not  duly  adverted  to. 

^^Mr.  Hart,  in  his  hymns,  often  represents  faith  as 
eonsisting  in  a  belief  that  Christ  died/or  me,  in  particular; 
which,  being  no  proposition  of  scripture,  can  only  be  di- 
rectly  known  by  a  new  revelation.  This  opens  a  door  to 
delusion.  Many  are  confident,  whose  lives  prove  their 
confidence  to  be  presumption  :  and  many  are  cast  down 
for  want  of  this  confidence^  concluding  themselves  unhe- 


318  i.KTTKRs.  [Chap.    XII. 

lievprs  because  they  hnve  it  not,  whose  iaitli  is  notwith- 
standing proved  to  he  living  and  saving,  by  its  proper 
fruits.  Fjiith  is  the  belief  of  (lod's  testimony,  especially 
concerning  his  Son,  nnd  eternal  life  for  sinners,  in  him  : 
it  embraces  this  salvation,  and  gives  up  other  confidences, 
and  other  objects,  for  the  sake  of  it :  and,  when  its  efl'ects 
on  the  judgment,  desires,  affections,  <S:c.  prove  it  to  be 
genuine,  the  spirit  of  adoption  enables  a  man  to  conclude 
accordiiip;  to  scriptiire^  that  Christ  died  for  him  in  par- 
ticular.    But  this  is  rather  the  maturity  of  faith  and  hope 

than  essential  Xjo  the  nature  of  faith. Again,  a  person^s 

doiihtins;  of  his  own  state  is  generally  condemned  by  Mr. 
H.,  as  unbelief ;  whereas  it  is  often  a  genuine  exercise  of 
faith  in  God's  word,  under  existing  circumstances.  We 
believe,  on  God's  testimony,  that  such  and  such  charac- 
ters have  only  a  dead  faith  ;  and  we  find  reason  to  doubt, 
whether  we  are  not  such  characters.  This  puts  us  on 
self-examinntion,  prayer,  &c. :  and  thus  our  doubts,  which 
were  very  salutary,  are  removed. — ^The  apostle  stood  iti 
doubt  of  the  Gallatians  :  and  surely  it  behoved  them  to 
doubt  of  themselves. — Indeed  every  caution  against  being 
deceived,  in  the  whole  scripture,  confutes  this  too  popu- 
lar sentiment :  which  is  only  suited  to  bolster  up  the  pre- 
sumptuous, and  crush  the  feeble  and  tempted. — To  doubt 
the  truth  of  God's  word,  or  the  power  and  willingness  of 
Christ  to  save  all  that  truly  come  to  him,  is  direct  unbe- 
lief:  but  to  doubt  whether  I  come  aright,  and  am  a  true 
believer,  when  many  things  in  my  experience  and  con- 
duct seem  inconsistent  with  the  life  of  faith  and  grace, 
is  the  grand  preservative  against  delusion,  and  incitement 
to  watchfulness,  self-examination,  and  circumspection. 
But  Mr.  H.  does  not  attend  to  such  distinctions. — The 
same  is  frequently  the  case  in  respect  to  fear.  Many 
passages  indiscriminately  condemn  every  kind  of  fear: 


1792 1801.]         LETTERS.  319 

though  the  scripture  says.  Blessed  is  he  that  feareth  al- 
ways ;  Be  not  high  minded  but  fear.  Yet  in  other  places 
he  speaks  a  different  language. 

"  Upon  the  whole^  Mr.  H.  was  a  man  of  a  warm 
heart,  and  of  a  lively  imagination ;  and  sometimes  he 
displayed  a  poetical  genius :  but,  for  want  of  more  ac- 
curacy of  judgment,  he  has  left  passages,  in  some  of  his 
hymns,  capable  of  a  dangerous  construction.'^ 

Observations,  similar  to  those  of  this  letter,  my  father 
used  pointedly  to  apply  to  an  abuse,  current  in  some 
quarters,  of  that  fine  passage  in  the  conclusion  of  the 
book  of  Habakkuk,  in  which  the  prophet  declares  his 
confidence  and  joy  in  God,  under  the  failure  of  all  ex- 
ternal sources  of  consolation.  The  abuse  consists  in  what 
is  called  spiritualiziyig  the  language  of  the  inspired 
writer,  and  thus  employing  it  to  cherish  a  confidence  of 
God's  favour,  when  faith,  and  hope,  and  love,  and  every 
other  grace  may  have  been  long  out  of  exercise,  and 
perhaps  no  sufficient  evidence  exists  that  we  ever  were 
true  Christians  at  all. 

In  a  letter  dated  December  29, 1796,  my  father  regrets 
his  want  of  skill  in  Hebrew,  but  adds,  "  It  is  too  late 
for  me  to  go  to  school  in  this  sense.''  Yet  much  after 
this  time  he  did  attain  a  degree  of  critical  proficiency  in 
the  language  ;  so  that  his  remarks  were  acknowledged  to 
be  among  the  most  valuable  that  were  received  on  the 
late  Hebrew  version  of  the  New  Testament,  w  hile  it  was 
in  progress.  He  subjoins  some  observations  on  learning. 
— "  Of  all  kinds  of  learning,  none  seems  more  import- 
ant, than  an  accurate  knowledge  of  the  two  languages, 
which  the  Lord  has  honoured  by  giving  in  them  his  sa- 
cred oracles.  As  to  mathematics,  they  doubtless  have  their 
use ;  but  a  moderate  proficiency  in  them  is  enough  for 
your  purpose.  . .  I  must  own,  I  feel  in  my  best  moments, 


320  LKTTEKs.  [Chap.  XII. 

that  I  had  rather  be  tlic  author  of  the  Discourse  on  Re- 
pentence.  than  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  Principia  :  for  the 
salvation  of  one  soul  gives  joy  in  lieaven.  hut  we  read 
not  that  angels  notice  philosophical  discoveries.  Yet 
learning  of  every  kind,  if  attended  with  humility,  and 
subordinated  to  the  one  thing  needful,  may  be  very  use- 
fully employed  in  the  service  of  the  truth  :  and  some  of 
Christ's  should  he  learned  men;  for  others  can  seldom 
have  access  to  the  learned,  or  to  those  who  would  be 
thought  such  ;  and  there  are  many  important  services, 
which  learned  men  alone  can  perform."' 

The  following  remarks  on  habits.,  and  on  the  regula- 
tion of  employments,  appear  to  proceed  on  the  soundest 
principles,  and  may  be  both  instructive  and  encouraging 
to  the  conscientious  mind. 

"  March  15,  1797.  Having  been  worked  too  hard  at 
some  times,  I  am  at  others  very  much  disposed  to  indulge 
a  kind  of  sloth,  and  only  to  amuse  myself  with  reading. 
This  is,  I  know,  in  some  measure  necessary  ;  and  yet  it 
is  so  apt  to  grow  upon  me,  till  it  become  a  kind  of  habit, 
and  require  much  exertion  to  break  through,  when  I  am 
better  able,  that  I  am  very  much  afraid  of  admitting  it 
on  any  occasion.  It  is  also  inimical  to  my  comfort ;  for 
I  always  feel  most  disposed  to  dejection,  and  to  view 
every  thing  in  the  most  discouraging  light,  when  I  am 
least  active  :  so  that  on  all  accounts,  when  I  am  able,  I 
must  be  employed  about  something,  which  is,  at  least,  an 
attempt  to  exercise  my  ministry,  and  employ  my  talents 
to  the  glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  others ;  whether 
what  I  do  answer  any  purpose  or  not.  The  state  of  public 
affairs,  and  the  great  stagnation  that  has  taken  place  in  res- 
pect to  the  demand  for  books,  has  made  me  rather  less  ear- 
nest in  preparing  any  thing  for  publication  :  but  I  believe  I 
must  go  on  writing,  whether  I  publish  or  not  :  or  I  shall 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  321 

be  like  those  who  give  over  business^  and  then  grow  low- 
spirited^  or  get  into  mischief^  for  want  of  regular  employ- 
ment.    Few  men  know  hovv  to  use  leisure  either  comfort- 
ably or  profitably  ;  and  a  regular  plan  and  succession  of 
employments^  provided  it  be  so  formed  as  to  imply  seek- 
ing Ji^^st  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness^  ac- 
cording to  the  duty  of  our  station^  seems  to  be  very  im- 
portant.    To  them  who  have  their  time  at  their  own  dis- 
posal, some  care    and  consideration,   with  wisdom  and 
grace,  are  requisite  to  form  a  plan  :  but,  when  formed, 
it  should  in  ordinary  cases  be  adhered  to,  so  as  to  grow 
into  a  good  habit :    for,  though  what  we  do  habitually 
somet'mes  seems  mechanical,  and  not  clearly  evidential 
of  the  right  principle  ;  yet  the  very  circumstance  of  its 
being  rendered  habitual  by  self-denying  exertion,  so  that 
we  cannot  deviate  from  it  without  uneasiness,  and  con- 
sciousness of  criminality,  unless  we  have  a  good  reason 
for  doing  so,  is  a  presumption  that  it  sprang  from  a  right 
principle  originally.     For  my  part,  I  often  feel  as  if  the 
constant  succession  of  duties  in  the  family,  asylum,  hos- 
pital, chapel,  study,  and  in  visiting  the  sick,  were  as  me- 
chanical as  if  I  were  making  tables  and  chairs  :   ver  it  is 
so  contrary  to  the  plan  upon  which  I  once  was-  that  I 
think  the  forming  of  the  habit  was  the  effect  of  a  new 
disposition  and  purpose  of  heart :  and  I  now  feel  guilty 
and  uneasy,  if,  without  urgent  cause,  I  deviate  from  it ; 
which  sometimes  keeps  me  going,  when  I  feel  considera- 
ble reluctance  :  and  yet   those  times  often  eventually 
prove  most  satisfactory. — ^We  should,  however,  be  care- 
ful not  to  be  too  much  attached  to  our  own  plans  :  we 
should  not  offer  to  prescribe  them  to  others,  whom  they 
may  not  suit :  or  to  censure  those  who  have  other  plans, 
provided  they  be  not  unscriptural  :  and,  when  an  occa- 
sion of  servins;  others  occurs,  which  deranges  our  plan, 
"2s 


322  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

we  should  readily  make  it  give  way  ;  as  a  man  would  sit 
ii|)  all  uiglitto  help  to  extinguish  the  flames,  it' his  neigh- 
bour's house  were  on  fire.  When  we  appear  reluctant 
to  this,  it  arises  from  a  too  great  fondness  for  our  own 
humour.  In  this  I  have  often  detected  myself:  I  could 
not  hear  my  |)lan  to  be  deranged,  though  it  was  plain  the 
honour  of  God,  and  the  benefit  of  souls,  required  it." 

In  a  letter  of  the  same  month  I  find  a  slight  notice  of 
his  last  visit  to  his  old  and  revered  friend  the  Reverend 
Henry  Venn,  who  died  soon  after  at  Clapham.  Of  this 
visit  he  ever  retained  a'delightful  remembrance.  He  found 
Mr.  V.  at  first  in  rather  a  torpid  and  vacant  state  :  but 
at  length,  on  the  mention  of  the  prospect  before  him,  and 
the  many  spiritual  children  who  had  preceded  him,  and 
would  welcome  him  to  glory,  all  his  ancient  fire  rekindled, 
and  he  talked  for  some  time  in  the  niost  animated  and 
heavenly  strain.  Indeed  it  was  remarked  that  this  aged 
saint,  when  he  seemed  nearly  expiring,  was  repeatedly 
revived  again  by  the  thoughts  of  the  happiness  which 
awaited  him,  and  continued  somewhat  longer  on  earth 
through  the  inspiring  prospect  of  the  glory  prepared  for 
him  in  heaven. 

His  eldest  sister,  Mrs.  Webster,  had,  in  1794,  lost  one 
of  her  two  daughters,  and  was  now  threatened  with  the 
loss  of  the  other.  This  drew  from  my  father  the  follow- 
ing expressions  of  pious  and  affectionate  sympathy. 

"  April  '^0,  1797.  It  is  a  duty  to  use  such  means  as 
we  can  to  preserve  life,  and  restore  health  :  yet  we  all 
know  that  many  other  things  must  be  consulted.  Phy- 
sicians often  reccommend  such  means,  as  their  patients 
are  unable  to  try  :  and,  when  this  is  the  case,  there  is  no 
ground  of  anxiety  or  regret ;  for  the  ability,  the  means, 
and  the  blessing,  are  all  in  tlie  hand  of  God. — It  is  often 
a  comfort  to  me,  both  in  respect  of  myself  and  those  dear 


1792 — 1801.]  LETTERS.  323 

to  me,  that  the  Saviour  who  was  wounded  for  our  trans- 
gressions, and  bruised  for  our  iniquities^  has  the  keys  of 
death  and  of  the  eternal  world.  If  we  can  but  say^ 
Lord,  he  whom  thou  loves t  is  sick,  we  may  confidently 
commit  the  event  to  him.  It  may  be  very  different  for 
a  time,  (as  in  the  case  of  Lazarus,)  from  what  we  should 
choose ;  but^  in  the  final  issue,  it  will  demonstrate  his 
wisdom,  as  well  as  his  faithfalness  and  love.  The  number 
of  our  trials,  and  pains,  and  days  ;  the  circumstances  of 
our  life  and  death  ;  are  all  with  him.  He  can  be  touched 
with  the  feeling  of  our  sorrows,  and  consults  our  feelings 
as  far  as  wisdom  will  perniit.  ^\\t  faithful  are  the  wounds 
of  a  friend :  and  he  prefers  our  durable  and  eternal  good, 
eveft  to  our  present  comfort ;  though  he  toill  not  leave  his 
disciples  comfortless^  or  orphans^  or  bereaved  persons. 
But  what  he  doeth  we  know  not  now  ;  hereafter  we  shall 
know.  We  do  not  even  know  the  effect  of  trials  on  our 
own  souls  :  we  cannot  say  what  we  should  have  been  with- 
out them  :  we  cannot  estimate  or  measure  our  own  pro- 
gress or  growth.  The  Lords  plan  is  very  complex  :  but 
the  truth  is  sure,  *^ll  things  work  together  for  good  to 
them  that  love  God,  whom  he  hath  called  according  to 
his  purpose.  ...  I  have  no  doubt  of  the  event  to  you,  that 
it  will  be  mercy  : 

The  cloud  you  so  much  dread 
Is  big  with  mercy,  and  will  break 
In  blessings  on  your  head. 

But  nature  must  feel,  and  I  do  most  heartily  pray  God  to 
spare  your  feelings,  and  to  preserve  your  child,  to  be 
both  a  comfort  to  you,  and  a  blessing  to  others.  But  I 
am  not  confident  that  he  will  see  good  to  answer  these 
prayers,  because  they  are,  perhaps,  the  language  of  ig- 
norance or  mistake.  All  I  see,  hear,  or  feel,  convinces 
me,  that  nothing  is  worth  living  for,  but  to  prepare  for 


324  LETTERS.  [ClIAl'.  XII. 

death  and  heaven,  and  to  do  some  good  in  tlic  world.  II* 
therefore  the  Lord  has  given  her  grace  to  choose  the 
good  part,  to  flee  for  refuge  to  Christ,  and  to  yield  her- 
self to  him  in  penitent  faith  and  love,  if  He  has  any  work 
for  her  to  do  in  the  world,  slie  will  certaiidy  live  to  do 
it ;  and,  if  not,  departing  hence  to  be  with  Christ  will  be 
a  loss  to  others,  but  her  richest  gain." 

The  young  woman  died  about  three  months  after- 
wards, as  her  sister  had  done  before  her,  a  mc«st  happy 
death. 

At  this  period  Mr.  Wilberforce's  "  Practical  View" 
made  its  appearance  ;  and  I  trust  I  may,  w  ithout  offence 
in  any  quarter,  allow  the  public  to  observe  the  impression 
which  that  work  made  upon  my  father^s  mind.  ' 

"  April  26,  1797.     It  is  a  most  noble  and  manly  stand 
for  the  gospel ;  full  of  good  sense,  and  most  useful  obser- 
vations on  subjects  quite  out  of  our  line  ;  and  in  all  res- 
pects fitted  for  usefulness  :  and,  coming  from  such  a  man, 
it  will  probably  be  read  by  many  thousands,  who  can  by 
no  means  be  brought  to  attend  either  to  our  preaching 
or  writings.     Taken  in  all  its  probable  effects,  I  do  sin- 
cerely think  such  a  bold  stand  for  vital  Christianity  has 
not  been  made  in  my  memory.     He  has  come  out  beyond 
all  my  expectations.     He  testifies  of  the  noble,  and  amia- 
ble, and  honourable,  that  their  works  are  evil ;  and  he 
proves  his  testimony  beyond  all  denial.     He  gives  exact- 
ly the  practical  view  of  the  tendency  of  evangelical  prin- 
ciples, for  which  I  contend  ;  only  he  seems  afraid  of  Cal- 
vinism, and  is  not  very  systematical  :  perhaps  it  is  so  much 
the  better. — It  seems,  likewise,  a  book  suited  to  reprove 
and  correct  some   timid  friends,   who  are  at  least  half 
afraid  of  the  gospel,  being  far  more  prndeni  than  the 
apostles  were  ;  or  we  should  never  have  been  able  to  spell 
out  Christian  truths  fj*om  their  writings.     But  it  is  espe- 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  325 

cially  calculated  to  shew  those  their  mistake^  who  preach 
evangelical  doctrines^  without  a  due  exhibition  of  their 
practical  effects.  1  pray  God  to  do  much  good  by  it !  and 
I  cannot  but  hope  that  I  shall  get  much  good  from  it, 
both  as  a  preacher  and  a  Christian.'' 

Indeed,  of  all  the  high  and  deserved  compliments 
which  have  been  paid  to  this  work,  scarcely  any,  it  has 
appeared  to  me,  have  more  strongly  spoken  its  worth, 
than  the  manner  in  which  my  father  always  regarded  it. 
In  general,  I  was  tempted  to  think  that  he  formed  rather 
too  low  an  estimate  of  the  books  which  came  before  him, 
especially  those  connected  with  his  own  profession  :  which 
arose,  no  doubt,  from  the  depth  of  thought  which  he  had 
himvSelf  bestowed  upon  the  subjects  of  them.  But  the  senti- 
ments of  this  work  appeared  to  him  so  just,  and  many 
parts  of  it  as  he  expresses  it,  "  so  much  out  of  our''  accus- 
tomed ^^  line,"  that  he  recurred  to  it  again  and  again,  and 
never  seemed  weary  of  the  perusal. 

From  a  letter  full  of  wise,  animating,  and  exciting  coun- 
sel, but  too  personal  to  be  inserted  more  at  large,  I  give 
the  following  extracts. 

'^  November  28,  1797.  Upon  the  whole,  if  I  have 
many  difficulties  :ind  discouragements  in  one  way,  they 
are  counterbalanced  in  another ;  and  I  have  every  rea- 
son to  think,  that  the  Lord  will  r^ake  my  poor  labours 
from  the  press  considerably,  and,  I  hope,  durably  useful. 
My  answer  to  Paine  has  been  reprinted,  and,  I  am  told, 
is  approved  in  America.  The  '  Force  of  Truth'  has  also 
been  reprinted  there.  ...  I  mention  this  to  shew  you, 
that  the  I^ord  will  make  use  of  honest,  though  mean  en- 
deavours to  promote  his  cause  ;  and  that  he  mixes  encour- 
agements with  humiliating  dispensations,  in  his  dealings 
with  those  who  trust  in  him.  .  .  .  The  Lord  puts  his  trea- 
sure  into  earthen  vessels  ,*  such  as  men  despise,  and  such 


326  LETTER?!.  [Chap.  XII. 

a5  think  meanly  of  themselves.     He  makes  little  use  of 
those  attainments  and   accomplishments  which    men    so 
much  admire,  and  which  many  think  absolutely  essential 
to  the  niinistry Consider  well  the  worth  of  immor- 
tal souls  :  the  millions,  all  over  the  world,  who  are  per- 
ish in  ij;  for  lack  of  knowledge  ;  the  awful  delusions  which 
prevail,  even  in  this  land  ;   the  few,  comparatively,  of 
even  honest  and  faithful  preachers ;    how  the  Lord  is 
taking  many  of  them  from  us  ;  what  a  determined  combi- 
nation  is  every   where  made  against  Christianity  ;  and 
what  an  honour  it  will  at  last  be  found,  to  have  been  de- 
cidedly on  the  Lord's  part — an  instrument  of  defeating 
the  gates  of  hell — of  sowing  seed  for  that  harvest  which 
he  will  shortly  gather — as   well   as  of  rescuing,  though 
it  be  but  a  few,  souls  from  eternal  destruction,  to  l)e  your 
croicn  of  rfjoicing  in  the  presence  of  our  Lord   Jesus 
Christy  at  his  coming.     With  all  my  discouragements 
and  sinful  despondency,   in   my   better  moments  I  can 
think    of  no  work  worth  doing,   compared  with   this. 
Had  I  a  thousand  lives,  I  would  willingly  spend  them  in 
it :  and  had  I  as  many  sons,  I  should  gladly  devote  them 
to  it. — I  have  little  doubt  that  you  will  see  your  way  clear 
before  the  time  comes  :  and  though  a  country  situation 
may  probably  be  most  eligible,  yet,  I  trust  you  will  say, 
Here  am  /,  Lord,  send  me  where  thou  wilt.   (Isaiah  vi. 
8.).... 

"  VY^ym^t^  frequently  helps  to  \)rt\y  ferventlf/,  . . 

"  Watch  against  heartlessness  as  against  the  grossest 
crime ;  for  it  is  very  dishonourable  to  the  mercy  and 
grace  of  the  gospel,  and  to  His  name,  who  commands 
his  servants  to  rejoice  in  hope  ;  and  a  very  great  hind- 
rance to  active  endeavours  to  glorify  him Strive 

against  reserve Beware  lest  pride,  and  fastidious- 
ness, and  the  fear  of  not  acquitting  yourself  creditably, 


1792 — 1801.]  LETTERS.  327 

influence  you  to  be  silent,  where  you  should  speak :  for 
pride  may  work  this  way,  as  well  as  in  forwardness  and 
self-  sufliciency.  Nature  always  needs  counteracting  and 
correcting  :  and  whatever  endowment  is,  or  may  be  neces- 
sary to  the  service  intended  for  us,  we  should  long  before 
be  asking  it  of  the  Lord  in  daily  prayer,  and  using  means 
to  obtain  it,  and  to  overcome  impediments  :  and,  though 
we  may  for  a  long  time  seem  unsuccessful,  we  shall  find, 
at  length,  that  it  has  not  been  in  vain. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  of  Mr.   's  death,  and  of 

:  but  Mr.  Milner's  death  especially  affects  me,  and 

bids  me  redouble  my  diligence,  while  the  day  lasts.'' 

With  Mr.  Milner  of  Hull,  my  father  had  no  per- 
sonal acquaintance.  That  he  had  the  highest  esteem 
for  his  character,  I  need  not  say.  His  death  took  place 
the  same  month  in  which  this  letter  was  written,  in  the 
fifty -fourth  year  of  his  age. 

A  passage  in  the  latter  part  of  this  letter,  reminds  me 
of  a  beautiful  sentence  of  Plato,  Archbishop  of  Moscow, 
who  enumerates  among  the  "  external  signs,"  by  which 
our  ^^  internal  devotion''  should  be  indicated,  ^^  joy  of 
countenance,  produced  by  a  glad  heart,  sensible  of  the 
infinite  goodness  of  God." 

A  letter,  dated  February  14,  1798,  gives  an  account 
of  a  long  conversation  with  the  late  Dean  of  Carlisle,  (Dr. 
Milner,)  in  which  ^^ a  variety  of  questions,  both  con- 
cerning doctrines,  experience,  and  the  state  of  religion 
in  town,"  were  discussed.  My  father  says,  "  He  allowed 
nearly  all  my  sentiments  as  true  and  important ;  but  I 
could  hardly  persuade  him  that  any  men,  who  were  not 
totally  and  evidently  bad  characters,  would  hold  such  no- 
tions, and  make  such  abuses  of  the  gospel,  as  I  too  well 
know  many  do." —  I  insert  this  sentence,  because  I  am 
aware,  that  persons  at  a  distance  from  the  scene  in  which 


*i28  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

my  tathcr  lived,  and  strangers  to  many  things  which  came 
under  liis  observation,  have  been  ready  to  judge  him  un- 
<]uly  apprehensive  of  antinomian  abuses  of  tlie  gospel. 

The  remainder  of  the  letter  shews  the  '*  godly  jealousy" 
with  which  he  looked  upon  any  degree  of  success,  how- 
ever slight,  obtained  in  the  university  ;  and  is  one  among 
a  thousand  proofs,  how  far  he  was  from  viewing  things 
with  the  eyes  of  ''  a  man  of  this  world."  ^'  I  i^ejoicf 
luith  trembling  ;  and  would  suggest  a  cautious,  jealous, 
watchfulness.  I  know  how  prone  the  heart  is  to  be 
puffed  up  with  any  kind  of  distinction,  or  supposed 
advance,  or  comparative  knowledge.  I  feel  it  to  this 
hour,  after  all  my  mortifications  ;  and  I  cannot  do  with- 
out them.  I  am  aware  how  bewitching  tho«e  studies 
must  appear  to  a  youthful  mind  in  your  situation — among 
so  many  who  judge  by  unscrij)tural  rules — which  procure 
applause,  distinction,  or  the  prospect  of  secular  advan- 
tage 5  and  what  a  strong  temptation  there  is,  to  devote 
more  time  to  them,  than  to  others  of  fiir  more  importance, 
which  are  of  small  repute  in  the  world,  but  derive  an  un- 
speakable value  from  their  enabling  tbe  possessor,  though 
poor,  to  make  many  rich,  and  having  nothing,  yet  to 
possess  all  things.  I  own  I  have  a  higher  aim  for  you, 
than  any  eminence  in  an  university,  or  any  acquirements 
of  human  learning  could  bestow  :  and  I  hope  you  have, 
and  will  have  the  same  for  yourself." 

I  may  be  permitted  to  say,  that  I  derive  much  pleasure, 
in  transcribing  such  extracts,  from  tlie  hope,  that  they 
may  be  the  means  of  communicating  a  portion  of  the 
writer's  spirit  to  young  men  preparing  for  the  saci'ed  of- 
fice ;  and  especially  to  such  as  may  be  more  in  danger  of 
academical  distinction,  than  the  person  was,  to  whom  they 
were  originally  addressed. 

A  proposal  made  to   place  a  young  woman,  distantly 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  329 

connected  with  the  family,  under  his  care,  because  of 
the  imprudent  marriage  of  her  sister,  gave  occasion  to 
his  making  some  remarks  on  education,  and  on  the  con- 
duct of  parents. 

"  July  14,  1798.  It  appears  to  me,  that  in  such  cases 
(as  that  of  the  parent,)  it  behoves  us  to  examine  ourselves, 
in  order  to  discover  whether  the  Lord  is  not  contending 
with  us  for  some  neglect  of  our  proper  duty,  while  others 
are  left  to  violate  their  duty  to  us  :  for,  without  this  be 
discovered  and  confessed  before  the  Lord  in  humble  re- 
pentance, we  cannot  reasonably  expect  to  enjoy  comfort 
under  affliction,  to  have  it  sanctified,  or  to  find  a  happy 
event  to  it.  The  principles  and  plan  of  modern  education 
are  such,  and  1  have  so  long  made  my  observations  on 
the  effect  of  them,  that  I  cannot  but  suspect  the  mother 
has,  in  some  degree,  been  guilty  of  Eli's  fault ;  which 
brings  sore  calamities  on  families,  and  especially  on  the 
families  of  religious  people.     Self-will  is  natural  to  us; 
and,  if  indulged,  it  gathers  strength  with  our  years,  and 
at  length  will  brook  no  control.     Children,  like  young 
colts,  must  be  broken  in  ;  and  the  sooner  the  better.  The 
child,  that  has  earli/  been  constrained  to  give  up  its  will 
to  that  of  a  parent,  will,  without  severity,  be  trained  to 
a  habit  of  submission^  which  will  not  easily  be  broken 
through  when  he  is  grown  up  ;  even  though  he  want  re- 
ligion effectually  to  produce  submission  to  God.  But  the 
rei^erse  is  modern  education,  and  especially  among  religious 

people." 

'^  I  own,"  he  says,  ''  I  am  grievously  afraid  of  young 
people  who  have  been  indulged  when  children."  And 
subsequently,  ''  At  boarding  schools  they  are,  in  general, 
much  more  of  fine  ladies  than  I  should  wish  any  body 
about  me  to  be.  On  this  account  I  have  resolutely  re- 
fused many  friendly,  and  apparently  advantageous  offers 

2  T 


330  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

from  the  teachers  of  schools,  respecting  my  (laughter,  who 
has  never  left  home.'" 

The  young  ])crson  in  question,  being  soon  after  left  an 
orphan,  was  received  into  his  family,  and  died  there 
about  half  a  year  afterwards  ;  being,  I  trust,  to  be  added 
to  the  number  of  those,  who  have  received  the  most  im- 
portant benefit  under  his  roof. 

His  nephew^  having,  at  this  period,  proposed  to  enter 
into  the  church,  he  points  out  what  he  conceives  to  be  the 
best  plan  to  be  adopted,  and  says,  "  If  you  can  make  up 
your  mind  to  it,  I  consider  such  a  delayed  course  as  no 
objection ;  for  I  think  the  nearer  thirty  the  better,  before 
a  man  be  engaged  in  such  a  work  as  that  of  the  ministry.^' 

A  year  afterwards,  proposing  to  receive  him  under  his 
own  tuition,  he  writes  to  him  : — 

^^  December  19,  1799.  I  must  soon  decrease  and  be 
gone.  I  have  borne  a  faithful,  but  rude  and  feel)le,  tes- 
timonv  :  my  desire  is  to  be  instrumental  in  bringing  for- 
ward some  young  men,  who  may  carry  on  the  same  work 
to  better  advantage  when  I  am  removed  :  for  a  tendency 
to  antinomianism  is  the  bane  of  evangelical  preaching  in 
this  day  ;  both  by  loivcrinf;  Christianity  among  those 
w  ithin,  deceiving  professors,  and  disgrcicing  the  common 

cause I  have  a  most  deep  and  heartfelt  conviction 

of  the  truth  and  importance  of  those pe€idia?'i ties ^  which 
have  hitherto  made  me  unpopular ;  and  I  wish  to  com- 
municate and  perpetuate  them,  by  young  persons  who 
may  have  advantages  that  I  have  not." 

The  last  letter  which  I  shall  produce,  belonging  to 
this  period,  will  be  esteemed  one  of  no  common  in- 
terest. It  will  itself  explain  the  circumstances  under 
which  it  was  written. 

^^  Chapel  Street,  November  22,  1801.  Dear  John, 
I    understand   that   you   have   been   informed   by   Mr, 


1792 1801.]        LETTERS,  331 

Pratt's  letters  to  Mr.  Dikes,  that  I  am  recovering 
from  my  late  sickness ;  and  this  may  keep  you  and 
dear  Frances  from  anxiety  on  my  account :  yet  I 
thought  a  few  lines  from  me  would  be  welcome  on  the 
occasion,  and  have  therefore  allotted  a  part  of  this 
evening  (Sunday,)  to  the  purpose. 

^^  During  almost  sixteen  years'  continuance  in  London, 
though  often  greatly  indisposed,  I  have  never  once  before 
been  prevented  officiating  on  the  Sunday  :  but  I  have 
now  done  nothing  since  Wednesday  sennight  in  the  even- 
ing. I  have  not  been  able  even  to  pray  in  the  family 
till  last  night,  and  then  with  great  difficulty.  In  the 
former  part  of  my  life,  I  had  many  more  violent  and 
long  continued  fevers  :  but  I  have  not  been  so  ill,  since  I 
had  a  nervous  fever  in  Shropshire,  in  1783  ;  and,  as  far 
as  I  can  recollect,  I  never  had  so  violent  an  attack  of  the 
asthma  before.  For  many  hours  of  two  successive  nights, 
it  was  all  but  absolute  suffocation  ;  and  the  sense  and  dread 
of  that  were  continually  present  to  my  mind.  Yet,  bless 
the  Lord,  I  was  not  left  either  to  murmer  or  despond.  I  had 
very  serious  apprehensions  of  immediate  death  ;  though 
I  said  nothing  to  those  around  me  :  and  all  my  cares, 
plans,  hopes,  (as  to  this  world,)  and  every  thing,  except 
my  wife  and  children,  seemed  quite  ought  of  sight.  I 
had  not  any  sensible  comfort  ;  yet  I  thought  of  dying 
without  emotion  :  though  the  idea  of  dying  by  suffoca- 
tion seemed  formidable.  I  felt  the  grand  concern  to  be 
safe ;  and  was  willing  to  leave  all  below,  to  have  done  with 
suffering,  sin,  and  temptation.  I  did  not  fell  much  of 
what  the  apostle  mentions,  of «  desiring  to  be  with 
Christ  ;  and  I  was  convinced,  for  that  very  reason,  that 
my  Christianity  was  of  a  small  growth :  yet  I  trusted 
that  it  was  genuine.  I  tried  to  commit  all  I  loved,  and 
all  I  had  laboured  to  effect,  into  the  Lord's  hands  :  and 


332  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIL 

I  thought  of  recovering,  as  a  sailor,  just  al)out  to  enter 
harbour,  would  of  being  ordered  out  to  sea  again.  Yet 
I  was  willing,  if  the  Lord  saw  good. — This  was  about 
the  state  of  my  mind.  I  could  confusedly  recollect  very 
many  things  to  be  humbled  for,  and  ashamed  of ;  but 
nothing  that  impeached  the  sincerity  of  my  professed 
faith  in  Christ,  and  love  to  him  :  and,  though  conscious 
of  very  many  faults  and  imperfections  in  my  ministry,  I  was 
also  conscious,  that  I  had  honestly  sought  to  glorify  God, 
and  save  souls,  in  preference  to  all  worldly  interests.  My 
hope  wasthatof  a  sinner,  throughout  saved  by  grace  :  yet 
I  was  satisfied,  that  the  aim  of  my  heart,  and  the  tenor  of  my 
conduct,  since  I  professed  the  gospel,  evidenced  that  I 
had  built  on  the  sole  foundation  by  a  living  faith. — 
When  I  die,  it  is  not  to  be  expected,  that  I  should  be 
able  to  declare  my  views  and  experiences  ;  and  there- 
fore I  commit  these  things  to  paper,  as  what  passed  in  my 
mind,  when  I  had  serious  apprehensions  of  dying. 

"  It  pleased  God,  however,  at  length  to  bless  the 
means,  and  repeated  emetics,  blisters,  &c.  abated  the  pa- 
roxysm :  yet  the  lungs  were  left  in  such  a  state,  and  I 
had  so  strong  a  fever,  that,  for  almost  ten  days,  I  tasted 
neither  animal  food,  nor  fermented  liquor,  except  a 
spoonful  of  wine  two  or  three  times,  by  way  of  a  trial, 
which  always  disagreed  with  me.  So  that,  altogether,  I 
have  been  reduced  very  low  :  but,  thank  God,  the  fever 
yielded  to  medicine  ;  and  I  have  now  nothing  remain- 
ing of  my  disorder,  but  the  languor,  and  a  sort  of  irrita- 
ble state  of  the  lungs,  which  chiefly  troubles  me  by  pre- 
venting me  from  sleeping.  In  other  respects  I  am  ama- 
zingly recovered,  and  relish  my  food  better  than  I  have 
done  for  months  past.  I  am,  however,  advancing  in 
years ;  and  this  attack  will  probably  have  some  effect 
upon  my  plans,  so  far  as  to  make  me  backward  to  under- 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS-  333 

take  all  that  labour,  which  I  had  some  thoughts  of.  But 
wherever,  or  how  long,  or  in  whatever  way,  I  may  be 
employed,  I  never  felt  so  deeply  convinced  in  my  life, 
that  being  employed,  as  a  minister,  is  the  only  thing  worth 
living  for.  The  vanity  of  all  worldly  possessions,  dis- 
tinctions, connexions,  and  enjoyments,  never  so  forcibly 
impressed  my  mind,  as  on  this  occasion.  The  folly  of 
shrinking  from  that  hardship  or  suffering,  which  the 
frown  or  scorn  of  men  can  inflict  on  us,  for  faithfulness, 
appeared  extreme  ;  when  I  felt  how  easily  God  could 
inflict  far  sharper  sufferings,  if  he  saw  good.  The  reality 
and  importance  of  eternal  things  shone  on  the  scenes 
around  me  ;  so  that  the  crowds  of  noble  and  affluent  sin- 
ners, following  the  steps  of  the  rich  man  in  the  gospel, 
appeared  the  most  miserable  of  wretches.  Transient 
pain  taught  me  emphatically  the  value  of  deliverance 
from  eternal  misery  ;  and  endeared  the  love  of  the  de- 
liverer, who  voluntarily  endured  such  pain  and  agony 
for  us  vile  sinners.  The  evil  of  sin,  the  happiness  of  the 
poorest  true  Christian,  and  the  little  consequence  of  the 
smoothness  or  ruggedness  of  the  path,  provided  we  come 
to  heaven  at  last :  these  things,  and  others  connected 
with  them,  have  not,  for  many  years  at  least,  so  impres- 
sed my  mind. — The  Friday  evening  before  I  was  taken 
ill,  I  preached  on  the  text,  Follow  holiness,  without 
which  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord.  But  I  did  not  proper- 
ly dwell  on  the  Lord's  method  of  making  us  partakers  of 
his  holiness :  so  he  has  since  preached  to  me  on  the  sub- 
ject. And,  as  I  now  think  little  of  the  distress  and  pain 
attending  the  remedies  used  for  my  body,  (the  pain  is  all 
past,)  because  I  hope  I  shall  have  the  subsequent  benefit 
of  better  health ;  how  little  should  I  think  of  the  sharp- 
est suff'erings  I  can  here  go  through,  if  the  health  of  my 
soul  be  forwarded,  and,  at  length,  perfected,  by  means  of 


334  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

them  :  or  raUier  how  ought  I  to  bless  and  thank  God  for 
them  all. — Pray  forme,  that  I  may  not  lose  these  impres- 
sions; hilt,  if  spared,  may  live,    and   preaeh,  and  pray, 
and  write,  in  a  manner,  somewhat  less  unsuitable  to  the 
vastly  important  services  I  am  engaged  in  :   for  luho  can 
hesHJjicinit  for   these  thini^s? — I  rejoiced,  and  blessed 
God,  when  I  recollected  that  he   had  ptit  you  into  this 
high  office  of  the  ministry  :  0  may  he  preserve  you  from 
the  snares,    and  smiles,  and  frowns  of  the  world  ;  from 
the  fascinations  and  delusions,  from   the  lukewarm ness, 
and  evangelical  formality,  and  attachment  to  secular  in- 
terests, which  are  sanctioned  too  much  in  the  church  ! 
May  you  be  a  wiser,  holier,  more  faithful,  and  more  use- 
ful minister,  than  ever  I  have  been  ! — 0  keep  the  conclu- 
ding scene  in  view  every  step  of  the  way  ;  and  judge  of 
every  thing  by  it.     The  evils  I  have  protested  against 
in  health  appeared  to  me  far,  far  more  pernicious,  as  I 
lay  gasping  for  breath,   than   before  :   and  I  seem  to  re- 
joice in  the  hope  of  entering  further  protests  against  them. 
— But  I  must  stop  my  pen,  or  I  shall  hurt  myself.     You 
xvill  excuse  the  overflowings  of  my  heart  at  this  time  :  it 
never  was  more  full  of  love  for  you.  .  .  .  My  love  and 
blessing  to  iny  daughter,     God  bless  and  prosper  you, 
in  the  best  sense  ! — Your  truly  affectionate  father, 

Thomas  Scott. 
An  addition  to  the  letter  by  another  hand,  made  the 
next  morning,  observes,  "  He  was  yesterday  (the  first 
time  he  went  down  stairs,)  enabled  to  go  to  chapel,  and 
that  without  any  injury.  He  is  now  at  work,  as  usual, 
in  the  study  !" 

On  this  very  striking  and  affecting  letter  I  shall  ven- 
ture to  offer  a  few  remarks. 

1.  It  can  hardly  be  necessary  to  call  the  reader's  at- 
tention to  the  deep  and  vivid  impressions,  made  on  the 


3792 — 1801.]  LETTERS.  335 

writer's  mind,  of  *'  the  reality  and  importance  of  eternal 
things  ;^'  of  "  the  vanity  of  all  worldly  possessions,  dis- 
tinctions, connexions,  and  enjoyments  ;''  of  "  the  hap- 
piness of  the  poorest  true  Christian ;"  of  the  extreme 
misery  of  '^  the  crowds  of  noble  and  affluent  sinners,  fol- 
lowing the  steps  of  the  rich  man  in  the  gospel ;''  of  the 
^Mittle  consequence  of  the  smoothness  or  ruggedness  of 
the  path,  provided  we  come  to  heaven  at  last ;"  of  the 
welcome  with  which  we  should  receive  "  the  sharpest 
sufferings,  we  can  go  through  here,  if  the  health  of  our 
souls  may  be  forwarded,  and,  at  length,  perfected  by 
means  of  them.'^ 

2.  The  views  which  he  takes  of  the  work  of  the  minis- 
try, and  of  "  the  folly  of  shrinking  from  that  hardship 
or  suffering,  which  the  frown  or  scorn  of  men  can  inflict 
on  us  for  faithfulness;''  the  prayer,  "  0  may  he  preserve 
you  (as  a  minister,  especially,)  from  the  snares,  and 
smiles,  and  frowns  of  the  world,  from  the  fascinations 
and  delusions,  from  the  lukewarmness,  and  evangelical 
formality,  and  attachment  to  secular  interests,  which  are 
sanctioned  too  much  in  the  church  !"  cannot  fail  to  strike 
every  mind. — ^The  light,  also,  in  which,  apparently  on  a 
dying  bed,  he  now  saw  the  specialities,  if  I  may  so  call 
them,  of  his  doctrine  and  ministry,  more  particularly,  as 
opposed  to  a  loose  and  worldly  profession  of  the  gospel, 
and  the  abuse  of  evangelical  truths,  will  not  pass  un- 
noticed. 

3.  But  particularly  we  have  here  presented,  under 
these  interesting  circumstances,  and  with  immediate  ref- 
erence to  his  own  case,  a  distinct,  though  concise,  view 
of  some  of  his  sentiments,  which  have  been  often  misap- 
prehended and  misrepresented.  "  I  could  confusedly 
recollect  very  many  things  to  be  humbled  for,  and  asham- 
ed of :  but  nothing  that  impeached  the  sincerity  of  my 


336  ^ETTETis.  [Chap.  XII. 

pi^ofcssed faith  in  Christ,  and  love  to  him.  My  hope 
was  that  of  a  sinner,  throughout  saved  by  grace :  yet  I 
was  satisfied,  that  the  aim  of  my  heart,  and  the  tenor  of 
my  conduct,  since  I  professed  the  gospel,  evidenced 
that  I  had  built  on  the  sole  foundation  by  a  living 
faith.'" — Is  there  any  thing  in  this  which  is  justly  charge- 
able with  self- righteousness,  or  which  even  approaches  to 
that  error  ?  The  utmost  that  it  amounts  to  is  that  "  re- 
joicing in  the  testimony  of  his  conscience,  that  in  simpli- 
city and  godly  sincerity,  not  with  fleshly  wisdom,  but  by 
the  grace  of  God,  he  had  had  his  conversation  in  the 
world,"  which  the  same  apostle  does  not  scruple  to 
express,  who  teaches  us  to  "  rejoice  in  Christ  Jesus'' 
only,  and  exclaims,  "  God  forbid  that  I  should  glory, 
save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.'' — Christ 
is  ''  the  sole  foundation  :"  "  by  faith"  alone  we 
"  build"  upon  him  :  but  the  fruits  of  faith  are  to  be 
adduced,  both  now,  and  at  the  day  of  judgment,  as 
"  evidence"  that  our  professed  faith  is  "  living,"  and 
not  dead.  This  is  the  whole  doctrine  of  evidences  : 
yet  many  excellent  persons  cannot  distinguish  between 
adducing  the  fruits  of  faith  as  a  foundation  on  which 
to  rest  for  acceptance  with  God,  and  adducing  them 
merely  as  a  proof  that  we  are  builded  upon  Christ 
alone  by  a  living  faith  :  and  thus  they  unintentionally 
give  countenance  to  those  who  decry  all  appeal  to  evi- 
dences, because,  it  is  to  be  feared,  they  have  no  satisfac- 
tory evidences  to  appeal  to,  in  support  of  their  own  pre- 
tensions to  the  Christian  state  and  character. 

We  ought  also,  under  the  present  head,  to  remark  the 
perfect  sobriety  and  soundness  of  the  writer's  method  of 
proceeding,  as  to  the  cpicstion  of  his  own  state  and  pros- 
pects, even  in  the  condition  of  extreme  exhaustion  and 
suffering  which  he  describes.     He  is  able  "  to  give  to 


1792—1801.]  LETTERS.  337 

every  one  that  asketh  of  him  a  reason^'^  which  cannot  be 
contravened;,  "  of  the  hope  that  is  in  him."  Is  there,  it 
may  be  confidently  demanded,  any  thing  fanatical,  fan- 
ciful, or  in  any  way  contrary  to  "  a  sound  mind,''  in  what 
we  are  reviewing  of  the  writer's  proceedings  upon  a 
supposed  dying  bed  ? 

4.  But,  lastly,  it  may  perhaps  be  littk  satisfactory  to 
some  persons,  that  there  was  no  more  of  joy  and  ^^  sensi- 
ble comfort,"  in  the  writer's  "  views  and  experiences, 
when  we  had  serious  apprehensions  of  dying  :"  and  I  the 
rather  advert  to  this  subject,  because  the  case  was  pretty 
much  the  same,  as  he  rather  seems  to  anticipate  that  it 
might  be,  when  death  actually  approached.  But  let  us 
observe  what  he  says  was  "  about  the  state  of  his  mind" 
in  this  respect. 

"  For  many  hours  of  two  successive  nights,  it  was  all 
but  absolute  suffocation,  and  the  sense  and  dread  of  that 
was  continually  present  to  my  mind  :  yet,  bless  the  Lord, 
I  was  not  left  either  to  murmur  or  despond.  I  had  very 
serious  apprehensions  of  immediate  death.  ...  I  had  not 
any  sensible  comfort.  Yet  I  thought  of  dying  without 
emotion.  ...  I  felt  the  grand  concern  to  be  safe ;  and  was 
willing  to  leave  all  below,  to  have  done  with  suffering, 
sin,  and  temptation  ....  I  tried  to  commit  all  I  loved, 
and  all  I  had  laboured  to  affect,  into  the  Lord's  hands  : 
and  I  thought  of  recovering,  as  a  sailor,  just  about  to 
enter  harbour,  would  of  being  ordered  out  to  sea  again. 
Yet  I  was  willing  if  the  Lord  saw  good."  But  he  adds, 
''  I  did  not  feel  much  of  what  the  Apostle  mentions  of 
desiring  to  be  with  Christ ;  and  I  was  convinced  for  that 
very  reason,  that  my  Christianity  was  of  a  small  growth, 
though  I  trusted  it  was  genuine  :" — a  sentence  which  pro- 
duces an  impression  like  that  felt  by  the  late  distinguished 
Dean  of  Carlisle,  when,  comparing  the  exalted  Christian 

2U 


338  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

state  of  his  dyng  brother  with  the  humility  of  his  lan- 
guage, he  exclaims,  ^'  So  this  is  the  man,  who,  when  he 
is  asked  directly  about  his  prospects  in  eternity,  can  give 
no  other  answer  than,  /  can^t  say  much  /'' — Surely  in 
such  patience,  such  submission,  such  trust,  even  in  the 
absence  of  *' sensible  comfort ;"  in  such  willingness,  as 
the  Lord  should  see  good,  either  to  ''  enter  the  harhoiir'" 
of  death,  or  to  be  ^^  ordered  out  to  sea  again,"  on  the 
stormy  voyage  of  life  : — surely  there  is  in  all  this  much 
of  the  highest  attainments  of  Christianity.  "  I  can't 
say  much,''  replied  the  dying  Milntr  to  the  questions 
which  were  put  to  him  :  '•I  rely  on  the  promises  for 
strength  in  the  time  of  need  ....  There  was  a  time, 
when  I  should  have  been  very  unhappy  to  have  had  so 
little  of  sensible  comfort ;  but  I  have  seen  reason  to  be- 
lieve, that  one  of  the  most  acceptable  exercises  of  true 
Christian  faith  consists  in  patiently  waiting  God's  time, 
and  in  relying  confidently  on  the  written  word.  For 
many  years,  I  have  been  endeavouring  to  live  from  day 
to  day  as  a  pensioner  on  God's  bounty.  I  learn  to  trust 
him,  and  he  sends  the  manna  without  fail." 

From  the  period  of  the  illness  here  described,  my  fa- 
ther gave  up  his  Sunday  morning  lecture  at  Lothbury. 


1801 1813.]  FROM  ACCEPTING  ASTON,  &Q,  S39 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


FROM  HIS  ACCEPTING  THE   LIVING  OP  ASTON  SANFORD- 
TO  THE  FINAL  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  COMMENTARY. 

^^  I  SHALL  now/'  my  father  proceeds,  ^^  draw  this  ac- 
count to  a  conclusion  ;  as  most  of  the  subsequent  events 
of  my  life  are  nearly  as  well  known  to  my  family  as  to 
myself. 

^'  It  would  be  of  little  use  or  interest  to  detail  my 
trials  and  difficulties  at  the  Lock.  At  length,  however, 
the  time  arrived,  when  I  was  satisfied  in  my  conscience 
that  it  was  my  duty  to  recede.  1  always  questioned 
whether  I  acted  properly  in  coming  thither,  which  often 
added  to  my  depression  amidst  my  other  distresses  : 
but  I  never  thought,  till  this  time,  that  I  was  allowed  to 
quit  my  post.  Indeed  I  had  no  opening,  and  used  very 
often  most  seriously  and  dolefully  to  think,  that,  if  compel- 
led to  leave  it,  I  could  not  form  the  idea  of  any  station, 
that  I  was  likely  to  attain,  for  which  I  was  at  all  suited, 
and  in  which  I  could  conscientiously  engage.  Of  a  living 
I  had  no  hope :  the  post  of  a  curate  could,  in  few  situations, 
be  compatible  with  my  views  and  my  unpopularity  :  a 
chapel  would  not  clear  expences  :  and  into  an  irregular 
'  engagement  I  was  not  disposed  to  enter. 

'<^  But  the  alFairs  at  the  Lock  seemed  at  last  to  draw 
to  a  crisis.  —  When  the  Rev.  Martin  Madan,  who  had 
alone  borne  the  title  of  chaplain,  died,  Mr.  De  Coetlogon 


3^0  FKOM  ACCEPTING  ASTON       [ClIAP.  XIII- 

and  myself  were  appointed  chaplains,  instead  of  evening 
and  morning  preachers  ;  hut  without  any  other  alteration 
than  that  of  the  name.     But  various  things  concurred  in 
convincing  me,  that  I  ought  not  to  continue  in  this  joint- 
chaphiinship  with  one,  whom  I  could  not  approve  :  and 
at  length  I  avowed  my  determination  to  that  purport. 
This  produced  various  effects  and   plans  :  and  it  was  for 
some  time  doubtful,  whether  my  removal,  or  my  appoint- 
ment as  sole  chaplain,  would  be  the  consequence.     In 
this  unsettled  state  of  affairs,  the  living  of  Aston  Sand- 
ford  became    vacant  by  the  death  of   the  rector,  Mr. 
Brodbelt ;  and,  as  it  was  in  the  gift  of  John  Barber,  Esq. 
by  virtue  of  his  marriage  with  Miss  Gines,  who  had  been 
under  my  care  at  Olney,  I  applied  for  it.     I  never  be- 
fore had  asked  preferment  of  any  one,  and  never  in  my 
life  had  any  offered  to  me  :  but  on  this  occasion  I  stated 
my  circumstances  and  views  to  Mrs.  Barber,  and  re- 
ceived an  answer    peculiarly  gratifying  to  me.     After 
some  deliberation,  I  considered  the  business  as  settled : 
but  a  demur   subsequently  arose,  under  the  idea  that 
Mrs.  B.'s  mother    had   made   a   will,  and  bequeathed 
Aston  to  some  other  person.  No  will  had  before  been 
noticed,  but  one  was  now  found,  which  was  not  legal- 
ly authenticated,  but  yet  clearly  shewed  that  she  de- 
sired  the  living  to  be  given  to  the  Rev.  Richard  John- 
son, who   had  been  for  many  years  chaplain  to  the  co- 
lony at  New  South  Wales,  and  who  had  just  return 
ed  to  England,  unprovided  for.     On  this  I  at  once  re 
nounced  all  my  pretensions,  in  his  favour ;  though  not, 
I  own,  without  feelings  of  regret.     For  two  months  I 
seldom  thought  about  it,   except   when  distressed  with 
some  vexation.     But  one  morning  Mr.  Johnson  called  on 
me,  and,  when  I  congratulated  him  on  his  presentation  to 
Aston,  he,  to  my  surprise,  replied,  that,  as  he  had  some 


1801—1813.]  TO  THE  SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.    341 

ground  of  claim  on  government  for  a  provision,  he  had 
been  advised  not  to  accept  the  living,  and  had  come  to 
say,  that  he  wished  me  to  have  it. 

"  The  rest  was  soon  settled  in  due  order,  and  I  was  in- 
stituted at  Buckden,  July  22,  1801.  I  had  been  led  to 
think,  that  the  income  was  little  more  than  100/.  a  year, 
without  a  house  ;  and  that  it  could  not  easily  be  improved. 
But,  on  taking  possession,  I  found  that  my  predecessor 
had  advanced  the  rent  to  180/.  free  of  all  parish  taxes ; 
and  that  the  tenant  was  willing  to  confirm  this  agreement 
to  me.  This  business,  therefore,  was  already  arranged  to  my 
hands,  though  Mr.  Brodbelt  had  not  lived  to  receive  any 
benefit  from  the  arrangement  himself.*  But  there  was  no 
habitable  parsonage  :  and  the  circumstances  were  such, 
that  I  could  not  avoid,  either  building,  or  leave  my  family 
exposed  to  serious  difficulties  about  dilapidations,  when 
I  should  be  removed.  This  left  me,  for  some  time  after 
institution,  in  hesitation  whether  I  should  retain  the  liv- 
ing or  not. 

"  In  the  mean  time  it  was  determined  at  the  Lock, 
that  there  should  be  only  one  chaplain  ;  and,  to  preserve 
the  appearance  of  impartiality,  both  chaplains  were  dis- 
charged, but  with  the  allowance  to  become  candidates  for 
the  vacant  office.  Such  an  arrangement  was  by  no  means 
pleasing  to  me ;  and  I  determined  to  accede  to  the  dismis- 
sion, and  to  go  to  my  living.  But  this  was  not  wliat  had 
been  purposed  by  those  who  formed,  or  concurred  in  the 
plan ;  and  it  would  have  enabled  the  party,  which  they 
meant  to  exclude,  completely  to  triumph.  I  was,  there- 
fore, earnestly  intreated  to  become  a  candidate,  and  at 

*  When  the  sum  expended  by  my  father  in  the  erection  of  a 
parsonage-house  at  Aston  is  taken  into  the  account,  it  will  be 
found  that  the  living  could  never  be  reckoned  worth  a  clear  hun- 
dred pounds  a  year  to  him. 


342  FROM  ACCEPTING  ASTON       [ChAP.  XIII. 

length  consented  to  do  so  ;  and,  no  other  candidate  appear- 
ing, was  chosen  sole  chaplain,  March  25,  1802,  though 
not  without  many  efforts  and  stratagems  to  prevent  it. 
At  this  period  I  resigned  my  lectureship  in  Bread -street. 
— I  had  now  170/.  a  year  from  the  chapel  and  the  Asy- 
lum ;  but  without  a  house.  1  had  also  something  coming 
in  from  my  living. 

"  I  now,  however,  became  more  doubtful  than  before, 
whether  I  should  give  up  my  living,  or  determine  to  go 
and  reside  upon  it.  1  knew  that  the  bishop  would  not 
long  connive  at  non-residence  ;  and  that  it  would  be  im- 
practicable to  hold  the  Lock,  if  I  resided  any  considera- 
ble part  of  my  time  in  the  country.  In  the  event,  I  came 
to  the  resolution  of  retiring  to  my  liviftg,  induced  by  the 
following  reasons  : 

"  \.  I  thought  that,  if  a  chaplain  could  be  found, 
wholly  unconnected  with  the  conflicting  parties,  which 
had  so  long  struggled  for  victory  at  the  Lock,  and  who 
inherited  none  of  those  prejudices  which,  I  knew,  must 
attach  to  me,  peace  and  amity  might  succeed ;  and  the 
important  object  of  the  united  charities,  together  with 
the  interests  of  true  religion  in  the  chapel,  might  be 
pursued  with  a  far  better  prospect  of  success. 

"''Z.  My  engagements  at  the  Hospital  and  Asylum, 
and  the  services  in  the  chapel,  with  those  which  arose 
from  the  applications  made  to  me  by  governors,  added  to 
my  other  urgent  employments,  were  by  far  too  much  for 
me  ;  allowing  me  no  time  for  exercise  or  recreation  :  so 
that  I  had  no  prospect  of  proceeding  with  the  publica- 
tion of  an  improved  edition  of  the  Family  Bible,  on  the 
plan  on  which  I  had  begun  it,  without  such  close  applica- 
tion, as  1  found,  by  experience,  was  injurious  to  my  health 
and  spirits. 

"•  My  determination,  however,  was  not  made  absolute 


1801 1813.]  TO  THE  SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.     343 

at  once  ;  and  I  purposed  to  wait  till  I  could  resign  my 
situation  into  the  hands  of  an  approved  successor,  before 
I  publicly  avowed  ray  intention.  In  the  mean  time,  I  set 
about  building  a  parsonage  at  Aston. , 

My  resources  for  this  purpose  were,  indeed,  small :  but 
I  did  not  suppose  the  expense  would  be  so  heavy  as  it 
proved  ;  and  I  expected  considerably  more  emolument 
from  my  publication,  than,  <br  reasons  already  assigned, 
it  produced.  I  also  borrowed  a  small  sum  on  the  living ; 
or  rather  secured  a  payment  from  it  to  my  family,  (ac- 
cording to  the  provisions  of  the  Act  for  that  purpose,) 
in  case  of  my  decease  within  a  given  term  : — for  I  ad- 
vanced the  money  myself,  as  I  suppose  is  generally  done 
in  such  cases. 

"  My  resources  were  further  aided,  just  at  this  time, 
by  a  very  unexpected  legacy,  the  circumstances  attend- 
ing which  may  deserve  to  be  explained  ;  as-  the  whole 
formed  a  remarkable  illustration  of  the  text.  He  that 
hath  pity  on  the  poor  lendeth  unto  the  Lord  ;  and  that 
which  he  hath  given  will  he  pay  him  again. 

"  Some  years  before,  I  had  become  acquainted,  as  a 
minister,  with  a  female  servant,  of  whose  character  I  en- 
tertained a  high  opinion,  and  who  was  reduced  by  disease, 
justly  deemed  incurable,  to  the  painful  necessity  of  going 
into  a  London  workhouse,  (where  the  society  must  be  pe- 
culiarly distressing  to  pious  persons,)  unless  some  charit- 
able provision  could,  in  another  way,  be  made  for  her. 

As  I  was  entrusted,  by  affluent  and  liberal  friends, 
with  money  for  such  perposes,  I  proposed  to  support  her 
for  a  time,  till  further  medical  means  could  be  tried. 
Her  case,  however,  was  soon  given  up,  as  beyond  the 
reach  of  medicine  ;  and  it  was  thought  she  could  not  long 
survive.  Her  situation  became  known  to  some  families 
in  which  she  had  lived  :  and,  with  the  prospect  of  aid 


344  FROM  ACCEPTING  ASTON       [ChAP.  XIII. 

from  them,  I  received  her  into  my  house,  and  undertook 
her  support.  From  one  family,  in  particular,  in  which 
she  was  greatly  respected,  I  received  at  least  10/.  a  year 
on  her  account.  This,  with  some  other  helps,  enabled 
me  to  maintain  her,  without  any  improper  expence  to 
myself.  Thus  things  proceeded,  till  I  was  preparing  to 
leave  London,  by  building  a  house  on  my  living  ;  when 
one  of  the  family  just  mentioned,  to  whom  I  was  known 
chiefly  by  means  of  this  poor  woman,  died,  and  left  me  a 
legacy  of  200/.  I  still  received,  for  several  years,  the 
usual  aid  for  her  support,  and,  at  the  decease  of  another 
of  the  family,  a  further  sum  of  40/.  Thus  I  have  had 
the  privilege,  and  at  little  expence,  for  at  least  seventeen 
or  eighteen  years,  of  preserving  from  very  great  distress, 
a  poor  suffering  diseased  person,  whom,  I  doubt  not,  the 
Saviour  and  Judge  of  the  world  will  own,  at  the  great 
day  of  final  retribution,  as  intimately  related  to  himself, 
and  the  heir  of  his  kingdom.  (Matt.  xxv.  34 — 40.  Mark 
iii.  34,  35.) — I  would  further  observe,  that  this  is  the 
person,  who  was  described  in  the  "  Christian  Observer," 
for  July  1803,  (p.  416,)  as  having  expended  all  her  sav- 
ings, made  in  service,  upon  her  aged  and  distressed  pa- 
rents, in  the  confidence  that  God  would  raise  her  up 
friends,  in  case  the  time  should  come  when  she  should 
not  be  able  to  maintain  herself. — Such  instances  of  the 
faithfulness  of  God  to  those  \y\\o  trust  his  providence, 
while  they  obey  his  commands,  seem  peculiarly  worthy 
to  be  had  in  remembrance." 

As  this  person  is  still  living,  and  under  the  care  of  the 
family,  (though  she  took,  as  she  fully  apprehended,  her 
last  farewell  of  me,  when  I  first  went  to  college,  in  the 
year  1795 !)  little  more  can,  with  propriety,  be  here  said 
concerning  her.  I  may  remark,  however,  that  such  are  her 
fervent  and  affectionate  piety,  her  cheerfulness,  and  the 


1801 — 181S.]  TO  THE  SETTLEMENT  OP  HIS  BIBLE.    345 

consistency  of  her  temper  and  conduct,  and  (we  are  sure,) 
the  earnestness  of  her  prayers  for  all  about  her,  that 
though  she  is  unable  to  walk  up  and  down  stairs,  or  to 
get  to  church  except  by  being  carried  ;  yet  her  presence 
is  esteemed  a  privilege,  by  servants  as  well  as  by  master 
and  mistress,  to  those  who  have  received  her  under  their 
roof.* 

"  This  legacy,'^  my  father  proceeds,  "  enabled  me  to 
go  on  with  my  building :  but,  before  it  was  finished,  the 
circumstance  of  having  found,  as  I  thought,  a  proper  suc- 
cessor, induced  me  immediately  to  resign  the  chaplainship 
of  the  Lock  ;  and,  after  a  sharp  struggle,  (the  only  con- 
tested election  in  which  I  was  ever  engaged,  and  in 
which  I  only  contended  by  writing  letters  to  different 
governors,)  he  was  chosen,  Feb.  3,  1803. 

As  soon  as  it  became  known,  that  I  was  about  to  leave 
the  Lock,  a  number  of  individuals,  governors  and  others, 
without  my  interposition,  and  without  my  knowing,  for 
some  time,  that  it  was  in  hand,  raised  me  a  voluntary 
subscription  of  about  300/. 

"  I  thought  myself,  indeed,  entitled,  not  as  a  donation, 
but  as  a  remuneration,  to  something  from  the  hospital. 
The  whole  stipend  which  I  received,  at  first  80/.,  then 
as  a  joint  chaplain,  100/.,  and  then  150/.  as  sole  chap- 
lain, was  charged  to  the  chapel- account  ;  and  certainly 
was  little  enough  for  my  services  in  the  chapel.  So  that, 
for  above  seventeen  years  that  I  continued  at  the  Lock,  I 
had  attended  the  patients  in  the  wards,  as  chaplain  to 
the  hospital^  without  any  thing  brought  to  account  on 

*  Since  the  above  paragraph  was  written,  the  excellent  person 
referred  to  (named  Elizabeth  Moulder,)  has  departed  this  life  : 
but,  as  a  brief  memoir  of  her  has  appeared  in  the  "  Christian 
Guardian,"  and  is  now  published,  with  additions,  as  a  separate 
tract,  I  forbear  adding  more  concerning  her  in  this  place, 

2X 


J46  J-HOM  ACCKPTIN«  ASTON         [ChAP.   XIII. 

that  score,  and,  1  miistsjiy,  wholly  without  compensation 
from  man. — I  also  preached  a  weekly  lecture  ibr  the  same 
term  of  yeai's,  without  any  remuneration,  except  a  few 
pi-esents.  For  this,  however,  I  did  not  consider  the 
charity  as  indehted  to  me  :  hut  I  did  for  the  other.  But 
as  others  did  not  see  that  I  had  any  claim  on  the  equi- 
ty of  the  governors,  I  expressed  a  determination  not  to 
receive  any  thing  from  the  char  ty  as  a  f^ratuity  ;  because 
I  have  always  thought,  that  corporate  bodies  are  under  a 
responsibility  for  the  use  of  the  funds  committed  to  their 
management,  which  admits  only  of  the  payment  of  just 
debts,  and  equitable  compensations  for  services  received, 
and  not  of  the  liberality  of  gratuitous  donations. 

"  During  the  whole  time  that  I  was  at  the  Lock,  and 
indeed  for  some  years  before,  the  receipts  from  the  cha- 
pel were  small,  compared  with  what  they  had  formerly 
been  ;  and,  in  tiiis  way,  I  was  but  unsuccessful  in  my  at- 
tempts to  serve  the  charity.  But,  if  the  vulgar  proverb, 
'  A  penny  saved  is  a  penny  gained,'  be  founded  in  truth, 
I  must  take  more  credit  to  myself,  in  respect  to  the  finan- 
ces, than  has  been  allowed  me.  Perhaps  it  would  be 
found,  if  the  case  were  fully  investigated,  that  as  many 
hundreds  w  ere  saved  annually,  in  the  management  of  the 
institution,  by  those  friends  whose  plans  I  supported,  and 
aided  by  measures  more  appropriately  my  own,  as  fell 
short  in  the  income  from  the  chapel,  at  its  lowest  depres- 
sion. Tliis,  at  least,  is  certain,  though  but  little  known, 
that  in  the  dearest  times,  when  bread  (the  main  article 
of  provision  in  the  Hospital,)  was  four  times  the  price, 
any  other  articles  of  consumption  double  the  price  they 
had  been,  more  patients  were  cured,  and  the  charity  had 
more  resources,  than  in  the  '  golden  days,'  when  the  in- 
come of  the  chapel  w  as  three  times  as  great. 

"  WJien  I  was  appointed  sole  chaplain,  doleful  forebo- 


1801 1813.]  TO  THE  SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.      347 

dings  were  expressed  of  the  ruinous  consequences  which 
must  follow  :  but,  by  a  concurrence  of  circumstances, 
the  single  year,  that  I  continued  in  that  situation,  was 
peculiarly  productive  both  to  the  Hospital  and  the  Asylum ; 
and  I  left  the  united  charities  much  richer  at  the  end  of 
the  term,  than  they  were  at  its  commencement. 

"  I  would  only  add  on  this  subject,  that  1  can  rejoice 
in  the  testimony  of  my  conscience  before  God,  that  I  uni- 
formly did  my  best,  often  amidst  many  censures,  and 
against  much  opposition,  to  promote  the  secular  interests 
of  the  charities,  as  far  as  was  consistent  with  the  g"reat 
object  of  both  them  and  the  chapel — bringing  sinners  to 
repentance  and.  salvation  :  and  that  I  never  suffered  my 
own  gratification,  ease,  interest,  or  credit,  to  warp  me 
from  that  line  of  conduct,  which  I  deemed  incumbent  on 
me  :  and  that,  at  least,  I  was  enabled  to  defeat  very 
many  attempts,  the  success  of  which,  it  was  afterwards 
allowed,  would  have  been  highly  detrimental. 

"  Having  made  every  requisite  arrangement,  I  remov- 
tjd  to  Aston  in  the  spring  of  1803,  and  have  here  lived 
nearly  nine  years  in  quiet  and  privacy ;  with  the  oppor- 
tunity of  pursuing  my  studies  to  far  greater  advantage 
than  in  town,  and  of  reserving  to  myself  time  for  recreation 
and  exercise.  The  village  is  one  of  the  smallest  in  the 
kingdom  :  two  farm-houses,  a  few  labourers'  cottages,  and 
the  newly  erected  parsonage,  containing  together  about 
seventy  inhabitants,  young  and  old,  form  the  whole  of  it ; 
without  ale-house,  shop,  or  mechanic  of  any  kind.  Still, 
however,  there  is  some  opportunity  of  usefulness  :  the 
small  church  is  generally  wxll  attended  on  the  Lord's  day: 
and  exemption,  to  a  considerable  degree,  from  parochial 
duties  leaves  me  at  leisure  for  other  services. 

"  Since  I  came  to  this  place,  I  have  completed  the  se- 
cond edition  of  the  Family  Bible,  with  the  addition  of 


34S  PROM  ACCEPTING  ASTON   [ChAP.  XIII. 

marginal  references  ;  have  publisheda  third  edition  ;  and 
am  now  preparing  a  fourth.  I  have  collected  and  print- 
ed all  my  other  previous  works,  (with  the  exception  of 
Banyan's  Pilgrim  with  notes,)  in  five  volumes,  octavo; 
have  published  several  sermons  ;  and,  during  tiie  last 
year  (1811,)  have  written  Remarks  on  the  '  Refutation  of 
Calvinism.' 

'^  Here  I  close,  for  the  present  at  least,  this  narrative. 
I  might  add  many  things  concerning  my  family, — in  res- 
pect of  which  God  has  specially  favoured  me ;  so  that 
many  have  wished  me  to  say,  what  methods  I  took,  which 
were  crowned  with  such  success.  To  this  I  must  answer, 
that  few  things  are  looked  back  on  by  me  with  less  satis- 
faction, than  my  own  conduct  in  respect  to  my  children, 
except  in  one  particular,  which  appears  to  have  been  the 
grand  secret, — namely,  that  I  have  always  sought  for 
them,  as  well  as  for  myself,  in  the  first  place,  the 
'kingdom  of  God,  and  his  ?'ightconsness.^^ 

My  father's  sentiments  and  practice  concerning  edu- 
cation must  receive  distinct  notice  hereafter  ;  when  both 
parts  of  the  above  remarkable  sentence,  with  which  he 
concludes  his  narrative,  will  demand  our  attention.  At 
present,  therefore,  I  content  myself  with  applying  to  it 
the  sentiment  of  an  acute  observer, — '  that  a  man  al- 
ways perceives  his  deficiencies  most  in  those  things  in 
which  he  most  excels.' 

Here  then  we  take  leave  of  the  document  which  has 
thus  far  been  our  guide.  My  father  never  made  any  sub- 
sequent addition  to  it :  and,  for  the  remainder  of  his  his 
tory,  recourse  must  be  had  to  what  recollection  may  fur- 
nish, or  the  letters  which  passed  between  the  various 
branches  of  the  family  may  supply.  Though  his  narra- 
tive was  written  in  1812,  he  has,  in  fact,  given  the  story 
of  his  life  only  to  the  period  of  his  removal  to  Aston,  in 


1801—1813.]  TO  THE  SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.      349 

1803,  except  ill  what  relates  to  his  Commentary  ;  the  ac- 
count of  which  has,  in  a  former  chapter,  partly  from  his 
own  manuscript,  and  partly  from  other  sources,  heen  car- 
ried down  to  the  decision  of  the  Court  of  Chancery,  in 
1813.  In  the  remainder  of  the  present  chapter,  we 
shall  detail  such  particulars  as  can  be  collected,  and  seem 
worthy  of  being  recorded,  to  the  same  date,  or  somewhat 
later. 

In  doing  this,  we  may,  in  the  first  place,  advert  to  cer- 
tain visits  which  he  paid  during  the  period  in  question. 

Of  these,  two  were  made  to  Hull,  in  the  summers  of 
1806  and  1811.     In  the  course  of  the  former  he  passed 
on  to  York,  Leeds,  and  Huddersfield,  where,  as  well  as 
at  Hull,  he  met  with  that  respectful   and  cordial  recep- 
tion which  his  works  had  prepared  for  him,  though  he 
had  hitherto  been  personally  a  stranger.     On  this  occa- 
sion he  made  the  acquaintance  of  three  eminent  persons, 
all  since  decased  ;  the  venerable  William  Hey,  Esq.  and 
the  Rev.  Miles  Atkinson,  of  Leeds,  and  the  Rev.  Wil- 
liam Richardson,  of  York.     The  last-named  penetrating 
observer  of  mankind,  was  forcibly  struck  with  his  charac- 
ter, which  he  had  always  highly  esteemed  at  a  distance, 
and  now  still  more  admired  on  a  nearer  view.     He  after- 
wards made  some  observations  to  me  on  the  subject,  which 
led  me,  at  a  later  period,  to  express  a  wish  that  he  would 
write  me  a  letter  upon  it ;  but  he  said  it  was  too  late  for 
him  to  make  the  attempt.     I  remember  two  points  which 
he  noticed.     One  was  my  father's  constant  devotion  to  his 
great  object :  in  whatever  company  he  was,  or  whatever 
subject  was  introduced,  he  naturally  and  easily  made  it 
subservient,  in  the  end,  to  the  great  religious  design  for 
which  he  lived.     The  other  point  was,  that,  with  all  his 
talents  and  industry,  and  in  all  his  writings,  he  had  done 
nothing  for  display ;  he  had  consecrated  all  his  efforts  to 


^oO  1  KONi  Acc  i:i'TiN(;  aston      [Chpa.  XIII. 

\ilility.  and  had  sacrificed  nothing  to  reputation,  any 
more  than  to  interest. — Witli  his  preaching,  Mr.  R.  was 
somewhat  surprised,  on  account  of  its  abounding  with  fa- 
miliar iUustration,  so  nmcli  more  than  he  would  have  ex- 
pected from  his  writings.  It  may  be  remarked,  however, 
that  Mr.  R.  heard  him  address  only  a  week-night  con- 
gregation. One  of  the  illustrations  referred  to,  which 
he  used  on  tiiat  occasion,  was  as  follows  :  He  supposed  the 
common  objection  made  against  insisting  so  much  upon 
faith,  and  the  inward  work  of  religion  on  the  heart ;  and 
that  the  objector  should  urge,  ^good  works  are  every 
thing :  if  we  can  but  bring  men  to  live  well,  we  need 
not  trouble  ourselves  so  much  about  these  doubtful  and 
mysterious  matters.'  ^  This,'  said  he,  '  is  as  if  a  man 
should  come  into  a  garden,  and,  finding  the  gardener 
busy  in  grafting  his  trees,  should  tell  him  that  fruit  was 
every  thing,  and  that  all  this,  which  he  was  engaged  in, 
seemed  a  great  waste  of  labour.  The  gardener  would  re- 
ply, True,  fruit  is  every  thing ;  but  then  I  know  that 
this  is  the  only  way  to  obtain  good  fruit.' 

Twice  also  he  visited  Bristol,  once  in  1809,  and  again 
in  1813.  In  the  former  of  these  journeys,  he  preached 
at  several  ])laces  in  Wiltshire  and  Somersetshire  :  but  of 
Bath,  he  remarks,  - 1  was  almost  enchanted  with  the  beau- 
ties of  nature  and  art,  beyond  any  thing  I  ever  saw  be- 
fore :  but  no  opening  for  preaching  there.'  His  second 
journey  to  Bristol  was,  by  request  of  the  Church  Mis- 
sionary Society,  to  assist  at  the  formation  of  that  auxilia- 
ry Association,  which  has  since  yielded  such  effective  aid 
to  the  parent  institution.  His  reception  at  Bristol  was 
very  gratifying  ;  and  the  regard  borne  him  was  afterwards 
testified  in  a  very  practical  manner;  as,  in  its  proper 
place,  we  shall  take  occasion  to  state. 

In  1812.  having  gone  to  sec  a  friend  at  Rogate,  in  Sus- 


1801 1813.]  TO  THE  SETTLEMENT  Ui<   HIS  BIBLE      J5l 

sex,  he  accepted  an  invitation  to  visit  Portsmouth  ;  where 
he  was  received  w  ith  all  possible  kindness  by  Commissioner 
and  Mrs. J  now  Sir  George  and  Lady  Grey. 

His  last  journey  to  any  considerable  distance  was  in 
1813,  to  Cambridge,  where  his  only  daughter  (who  had 
been  married  about  two  years  before,)  then  resided. 
Here  again  he  met  with  the  most  kind  and  cordial  re- 
ception from  various  members  of  the  University,  and  had 
reason  to  believe  that  his  preaching,  expositions,  and  con- 
versation, were  very  useful.  He  says  a  few  months  af- 
terwards, "  My  visit  there,  to  which  I  was  uncommonly 
reluctant,  seems  to  have  been  greatly  blessed ;''  and  he 
adverts,  in  particular,"  to  the  late  Dr.  Jowett,  then  re- 
cently deceased,  as  having  expressed  to  several  persons 
how  much  he  had  felt  himself  excited  by  what  passed. 
To  have  contributed,  in  any  degree,  to  arm,  as  it  were, 
an  excellent  and  distinguished  character  for  his  last  con- 
flict, seems  to  have  afforded  him  peculiar  satisfaction. 

In  this  journey  an  accident  occurred,  in  the  overturn- 
ing of  the  coach,  which  proved  fatal  to  a  fellow  tra- 
veller.— From  about  this  period,  my  father  began  to 
complain  of  a  topical  affection  (threatening  cancer,)  which 
henceforward  confined  him  to  his  own  neighbourhood, 
and  for  some  time  excited  alarming  and  gloomy  appre- 
hensions ;  which,  however,  were  happily  never  realized 
to  the  extent  that  was  dreaded. 

The  next  subject  to  which  we  will  advert  is  that  of 
his  publications  during  this  period. 

My  father  has  observed  in  the  preceding  narrative, 
that  he  had  published  several  sermons.  Soon  after  his 
settlement  at  Aston,  he  was  called  to  preach  a  funeral 
sermon  for  the  Rev.  Jeremiah  Newell,  vicar  of  Great 
Missenden,  which  he  published,  with  a  brief  memoir  an 


352  J  ROM  ACCEPTING  ASTON       [ChAP.  XIIL 

ncxed,  for  the  benefit  of  Mr.  N.'s  family  ;  and  the  atten- 
tion thus  called  to  their  circumstdnces  happily  proved  the 
means  of  a  conilbrtable  provision  being  made  for  them. — 
In  May  1804,  he  accepted  the  invitation  of  the  London 
Missionary  So(iiety,  to  preach  one  of  their  anniversary 
sermons,  which  he  did,  at  St.  Saviour's  Church,  South- 
wark,  prefixing  to  the  published  sermon  the  motto,  "  Is 
there  not  a  cause  ?"  (1  Samuel  xvii.  29,)  and  justifying 
his  pleading  for  that  society,  as  well  as  for  the  one  with 
which  he  was  more  immediately  connected. — In  1S08, 
he  was  again  called  upon  to  bewail  and  commemorate  a 
deceased  brother,  and  old  friend,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Pen- 
tycross,  A.  M.  '^  more  than  thirty-three  years  vicar  of 
St.    Mary's,    Wallingford."     The   sermon  is  entitled, 
''  The  Duty  and  Advantage  of  remembering  deceased 
Ministers.''     In  1810,  the  death  of  a  very  pious  mission- 
ary on  the  western  coast  of  Africa,  the  Rev.  J.  C.  Barneth, 
who  had  been  for  a  considerable  time  under  his  instruction 
at  Aston,  led  him  to  preach  and  publish  a  sermon,  with" 
reference  to  that  event,  on  "  the  Spirit  and  Principles  of 
a  genuine  Missionary  :''  the  text.  Acts  xx.  24  :  "None 
of  these  things  move  me,"  &c.  In  June  1810,  he  preaced^ 
at  the  church  of  St.  Lawrence  Jewry,  London,  and  after- 
wards  published,  a  Sermon  in  behalf  of  the  Society  for 
promoting  Christianity  among  the  Jews  :  the  text,  Zech. 
viii.  23. — In  1811,  at  the  request  of  the  Church  Mission- 
ary Society,  he  delivered  an  address  to  two  of  their  mis- 
sionaries proceeding  to  Africa  ;  which  was  published  in 
the  appendix  to  the  Society's  Twelfth  Report.     And  in 
the  year  following,  he  preached,  at  St.  Antholin's.  Wat- 
ling  Street,  before  the  Governors  of  the  London  Female 
Penitentiary,  on  their  fifth  anniversary.  The  sermon  was 
published  at  their  request,  and  is  entitled,  '*  Joy  in  Hea- 
ven," being  on  the  text,  Luke  xv.  10. 


1801 1813.]  TO  THE  SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.     353 

The  only  extensive  work  in  which  he  engaged,  during 
these  years,  in  addition  to  the  improvement  and  repeated 
publication  of  his  Commentary,  was  that  of  which  he 
himself  has  already  made  mention,  ^^  Remarks  on  the 
Bishop  of  Lincoln's  (now  Winchester's)  Refutation  of 
Calvinism.''  It  appeared  at  first  in  two  volumes  octa- 
vo :  but  was  subsequently  remodelled  and  published,  in 
1817,  in  one  large  volume. — The  collection  of  his  Theo- 
logical Works,  in  five  volumes  octavo,  was  published  in 
numbers,  between  the  years  1805  and  1808. 

It  has  been  already  noticed,  that  at  Aston  my    father 
became  the  tutor  of  the  persons  preparing  to  go  out  as 
missionaries  under  the  Church  Missionary  Society.  This 
service  he  continued  about  the  space  of  seven  years,  from 
1807  to  1814.     I  find  its  commencement  thus  stated  in 
the  Society's    Eighth  Report : — "  On  Mr.  Dawes's  re- 
moval from  Bledlow,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Scott,  rector  of 
Aston   Sanford,  near  to  Bledlow,  added  most  seasonably 
to  the  many  proofs  which  he  had  given  of  warm  interest 
in  the  objects  of  the  society,  by  acceding  to  the  wish  of 
your   committee,   in   taking  charge  of  the   missionaries. 
As  they  could  not  be  accommodated  in  Mr.  Scott's  house, 
they  are  placed  in  a  pious  family  near  him,  and  enjoy  the 
daily  advantage  of  his  assiduous  aud  affectionate  instruc- 
tion.    Your  committee  will  only  add  on  this  subject,  that 
his  report  of  their  diligence,  improvement,  and  piety,  is 
of  the  most  satisfactory  nature.'' — The  approaching  ter- 
mination of  this  engagement  is   thus  adverted  to  in  the 
Fourteenth  Report :   "  The  health  of  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Scott,  the  venerable  teacher  of  the  society's  missionary 
students,  being  seriously  impaired,  the  seminary  will  be 
established,  as  soon  as  practicable,  in  the  house  of  the 
society." 

2Y 


334  FROM  ACCEPTING  ASTON       [ChAP.  Xlll* 

The  persons  who  came  under  his  instruction  in  this 
capacity  were  several  of  them  Englishmen,  who  have 
since  received  ordination  ;  but  the  majority.  Germans, 
in  general  Lutheran  clergymen.  All  ot*  them  went 
forth  as  missionaries  into  the  heathen  world,  and  most  of 
them  are  now  usefully  employed  in  that  character  ;  thougli 
some  have  died  in  the  service.  The  sentiments  of  grateful 
and  affectionate  veneration  which  they,  without  excep- 
tion, conceived  for  their  instructor,  were  publicly  testifi- 
ed by  them,  as  they  successively  took  leave  of  the  socie- 
ty to  repair  to  the  stations  assigned  them  ;  and  were  more 
privately  expressed  in  the  correspondence,  which,  as  op- 
portunely offered,  they  afterwards  kept  up  with    him. 

The  progress  which  they  made  in  their  studies  was 
highly  credital)le  ;  in  some  instances  remarkable.  I  re- 
member to  have  visited  Aston,  when  four  of  them,  who 
had  come  to  my  father  with  scarcely  any  knowledge  of 
language  beyond  their  mother  tongue,  were  reading 
Cicero  and  Horace,  the  Greek  tragedians,  the  Hebrew 
pro])l»ets,  and  the  Koran,  (Arabic.)  all  in  the  originals. 

The  subject  of  the  study  of  Arabic  may  deserve  a  lit- 
tle more  distinct  notice  as  it  respects  the  tutor,  not  less 
than  the  pupils.  In  June  1808,  1  received  a  letter  in 
which  it  was  observed  :  "  Mr.  Pratt  (the  Society's  secre- 
tary) begs  that  your  father  will  begin  to  teach  the  mis- 
sionaries Susoo  and  Arabic,  of  neither  of  which  languages 
has  he  any  knowledge  !  He  felt  very  uncomfortable  about 
this  for  a  day  or  two.  However,  he  has  now  begun  to 
study  these  new  languages  with  them."'  And  in  Novem- 
ber following  he  himself  wrote  to  me  as  follows  : 

"  With  all  my  other  engagements,  I  am  actually,  in 
addition  to  what  I  l)efore  taught  the  missionaries,  reading 
Susoo  and  Arabic  with  them.  The  former  we  have  mas- 
tered without  difficulty,  as  far  as  the  printed  books  go  ; 


1801 1813.]  TO  THE  SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.    355 

and  hope  soon  to  begin  translating  some  chapters  into  the 
language.  But,  as  to  the  latter,  we  make  little  progress  ; 
yet  so  far  that  I  have  no  doubt  of  being  able  to  read  the 
Koran  with  them,  should  they  continue  here.  It  is  in 
itself  a  most  difficult  language :  .  .  .  but  my  knowledge 
of  the  Hebrew  gives  me  an  advantage.'' 

To  say  nothing  of  the  Susoo,  an  imperfect  African  dia- 
lect, lately  reduced  to  writing,  those  who  are  acquainted 
with  the  feelings  of  men  in  general,  when  approaching 
their  grand  climacteric,  and  with  their  capacity  for  new" 
acquisitions,  will  best  appreciate  the  energy  and  resolu" 
tion  displayed  in  his  thus  calmly  encountering  and  mas- 
tering, at  this  time  of  life,  with  all  his  other  engagements 
and  all  his  infirmities,  the  formidable  difficulties  of  the 
Arabic  language.  The  Hebrew,  likewise,  which  was  his 
auxiliary  on  this  occasion,  had  been  entirely  resumed,  and 
almost  learned,  since  his  fifty-third  year.* 

But  the  most  edifying  subject  of  contemplation  will  be, 
the  spirit  and  views  with  which  he  carried  on  this  ser- 
vice of  instructing  the  missionaries  for  some  considerable 
lime  after  he  had  found  reason  to  complain — ^'  My  chief 
difficulty  is  about  my  missionary  pupils :  I  find  the  con- 
finement to  my  chair,  &c.,  in  teaching  them,  almost  in- 
supportable :  yet  I  know  not  how  to  give  it  up,  till  some 
other  plan  is  formed.'' — What  his  views  were,  may  be 
learned  from  a  letter  addressed  to  a  clergyman,  who,  un- 
derstanding that  he  was  about  to  relinquish  the  task,  had 
thoughts  of  proposing  to  succeed  him  in  it.  He  writes 
to  him  as  follows. 

"  November  18,  1813.  I  have  not  given  up  the  tui- 
tion of  the  missionaries,  though  I  have  urged  the  committee 
to  -look  out  for  and  form  a  more  permanent  seminary. 
Were  I  able,  and  external  matters  convenient  for  their 
reception,  I  should  count  it  the  best  employment  of  my 


356  FHOM  AcciirriNG  aston     [Chap.  XIIl- 

Ijitter  days.  But  every  thing"  here  is  wholly  incoiiveuient, 
and  the  sedentary  ])osture  for  so  long  a  time  is  very  un- 
easy to  me  :  nor  indeed  is  it  likely  that  I  shall  long  be 
able  to  go  on  with  it.  But  I  have  a  strong  reason  at  pre- 
sent for  not  giving  up  the  serviee,  if  I  can  help  it 

If.   liowever,  a  permanent  seminary  can  be  founded  for 
the  missionaries,  I  shall  not  suffer  any  personal  concern 
of  mine  to  interfere;  and  indeed  I  shall  greatly  rejoice  in 
it As  far  as  I  have  seen  and  heard,  they  give  as  lit- 
tle trouble  as  men  can  do  ;  and  do  most  things  for  them- 
selves.    They  have  hitherto  been   much  respected  and 
loved  in  the  neighbourhood ;  and  have  at  least  done  no- 
thing to  hinder  my  usefulness.     Several  of  tliem^  in  mat- 
ters which  I  am  not  able  to  do^  have  been  a  good  deal 
helpful  to  me ;  and  they  are,  I  think,  a  credit  to  the  cause. 
....  I  think  it  probable  that,  remembering  the  way  in 
which  I,  in  a  v#ry  slight  manner  comparatively,  brought 
you  on  in  Greek  and  Latin  ;  and  receiving  further  hints 
on  my  more  matured  method  of  teaching  gi^own  men  ; 
ybu  would  be  more  likely  to   adopt  what  is  useful  in 
my  plans,  than  a  stranger  would  be. — But  I  only  teach 
languages  in  ordine  ad  teaching  divinity.      The  mis- 
sionaries, as  they  have  hitherto  come  to  me,  have  been 
pious  men,  but  superficial  theologians  ;  and  my  morning 
expositions  have  been  their  lectures  on  divinity, — I  hope 
of  good  use.     This  part  therefore,  in  whatever  form  it 
is  put,  must  be  the  main  object. — In  respect  of  the  He- 
brr^w,  I  have  little  doubt   but,  with  the  application  of 
an  hour,  or  half-an-hour  a  day,  regularly,  you  would 
soon  be  competent  ;    and   your   situation    would  afford 
you  mnny  helps  :  but  not  so,  I  fear,  as  to  the  Arabic. 
.  ...  lam  persuaded  I  could,  in  six  weeks,  put  you  into  the 
way  of  teaching  yourself  Arabic,  far  better  than  I  could 
teach  myself  after  eighteen  months.     If  you  wish  to  at- 


1801 1813.]  TO  THE  SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.       357 

tempt  it^  get  Erpeiiiiis's  Grammar — not  Richardson's. 
There  you  will  have  pointed  examples,  and  short  clear 
rules  ;  in  which  Richardson  is  affectedly  deficient.  You 
will  want  no  other  book  for  a  time  but  Erpenius.  It  con- 
tains, besides  the  grammar,  Arabic  proverbs  and  fables, 
and  one  book  of  the  Koran,  all  pointed — the  history  of 
Joseph,  worse  murdered  than  his  brothers  even  purposed 
to  murder  him As  a  great  proportion  of  our  mis- 
sionaries have  been  Germans,  and  perhaps  will  be,  were 
I  as  young  as  you,  or  not  more  than  twenty  years  older, 
and  were  I  about  to  undertake  the  service,  I  would,  if  pos- 
sible, learn  German.  It  would  be  a  permanent  advan- 
tage :  and  indeed  it  is  almost  impracticable  to  go  on,  with 
effect,  without  it But  let  me  beg  of  you,  in  con- 
clusion, very  seriously  to  consider  and  pray  over  the  vast 
importance  of  the  undertaking,  and  the  immense  responsi- 
bility connected  with  it.  Your  example,  spirit,  views, 
and  instructions,  will  be  almost  inseparably  connected 
with  the  conduct,  spirit,  and  instructions  of  those,  who  are 
to  give  idolaters  and  Mohammedans  their  impression  of 
the  Christian  religion,  in  many  parts  of  the  world.  If 
they  be  such  as  St.  Paul  w^ould  approve,  the  true  honour 
and  usefulness  of  such  a  permanent  situation  will  exceed 
that  of  any  metropolitan  in  Christendom  :  and,  if  the  con- 
trary, the  fatal  effects  may  be  incalculable.  It  is  a  service 
to  be  engaged  in  with  much  seriousness  and  prayer—- 
Who  is  sufficient  for  these  things? — and  in  entire  de- 
pendence on  the  grace  of  the  Lord  Jesus  ;  I  had  almost 
said,  with  fear  and  trembliyig.  Yet  I  would  not  dis- 
courage you.  If  magna  reverentia  dehetur  puero^  you 
may  add,  major  evangelistx.  You  should  study  well 
what  St.  Paul  says  to  Timithy  on  these  subjects ;  espe- 
cially 2  Tim.  iii.  10,  11.  My  prayers,  and  any  counsel 
which  I  can  give,  shall  not  be  wanting.     May  God  fit 


^^H  I  KOM  ACCEPTING   ASTON       [ChAP.  XIII. 

yon  \'ov  the  service  :  appoint  you  to  it,  and  prosper  yon 
in  it  !'- 


In  this  connexion  it  is  natural  to  mention  the  lively  in- 
terest taken  by  my  lather  in  all  the  institutions,   having 
lor  their  object  the  diflusion  of  Christianity  in  the  world. 
It  was  impossible  that  one,  who  had  prayed  so  long  and 
so  earnestly  for  the  extension  of  Christ's  kingdom  among 
men,  sliould  witness  the  Christian  world  at  length  awak- 
ing from  its  slumbers,   and  beginning  to  put  forth   its 
powers  in  a  manner  more  becoming  the  character  of  the 
religion  whicli  it  professes,  without  heart-felt  gratitude 
and  joy  ;  or  without  exerting  himself,  by  every  means  in 
his  power,  to  cherish  the  rising  spirit.  We  have  already 
seen  that  he  preached  and  published  sermons  for  several 
institutions.      Immediately  on  his  becoming  resident  at 
Aston,  he  determined  to  make  an  annual  collection  in  his 
congregation  for  the  Church  Missionary  Society.  Though 
it  was  thought  by  some  rather  visionary  to  expect  any 
thing  worth  notice  in  such  a  situation,  he  resolved  to 
make  the  attempt,  and  to  persevere  it  it ;  convinced  that, 
by  exciting  an  interest  on  behalf  of  the  salvation  of  others, 
Christian  ministers  most  materially  promote  the  success  of 
their  labours  among  their  own  people.     His  first  collec- 
tion, beyond  all  expectation,  exceeded  17/. ;  the  third 
241. :  the  sixth  31/. ;  and  the  total  amount  stated  in  the  . 
report  for  1820  is  303/.  18.9.  lOcl.     When  the  obscurity 
of  the  parish  is  considered,  I  hope  this  result  will  encou- 
rage other  clergyman  to  ^*  go  and  do  likewise." 

The  Bible  Society  also  shared  his  warmest  attachment, 
and  its  success  afforded  him  the  most  unfeigned  joy. 
Several  of  his  latest  excursions  were  made  to  assist  at  the 
meetings  of  its  auxiliary  societies.  The  substance  of  two 
of  his  speeches  on  these  occasions,  one  delivered  at  High 


1801 1813.]  TO  THE  SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE     359 

Wycombe  in  1812,  and  the  other  at  the  meeting  of  the 
Vale  of  Aylesbury  society^  held  at  Haddenham  in  1816, 
was,  at  the  request  of  the  respective  committees,  reduced 
to  writing,  and  published  with  their  reports.  The  last 
of  these  societies,  since  become  one  of  considerable  extent, 
and  dignified  with  high  patronage,  may  be  regarded  as 
having  originated  with  his  family  ;  and  its  associations  are 
spread  through  the  neighbouring  villages  all  around  Aston. 
The  former  of  the  speeches  referred  to  was  delivered  just 
at  the  period  of  Dr.  Marsh's  opposition  to  the  society ; 
and  exhibits  a  specimen  of  terse  and  pointed  argumenta- 
tion. The  closing  sentences  may  be  introduced  here  as 
illustrative  of  its  author's  spirit  with  regard  to  these  so- 
cieties. 

"  I  conclude  as  I  began  :  '  Precious  Bible,  what  a  trea- 
sure !'  the  lightofow^feet^  and  the  lanthorn  of  our  paths: 
our  guide  in  youth,  our  comfort  in  old  age,  our  antidote 
against  the  fear  of  death.  The  longer  I  live,  the  more  I 
feel  for  those  who  have  not  the  word  of  God.  I  am 
growing  old^  and  feel  the  infirmities  of  age.  I  know  I 
must  soon  die.  I  am  a  sinner  against  God  :  I  must  appear 
before  him  in  judgment :  I  must  exist  for  ever,  in  hap- 
piness or  misery :  but  I  can  find  no  light,  no  hope,  no 
comfort,  except  from  the  Bible.  What  should  I  do 
without  the  Bible,  and  that  Saviour  whom  the  Bible  re- 
veals to  me  ? — While,  then,  the  Bible  is  our  own  inval- 
uable treasure,  the  source  of  all  our  knowledge,  hope, 
and  comfort,  let  us  do  what  we  can  to  communicate  the 
precious  treasure  others  also,  all  over  the  world.  We 
can  do  but  little  individually,  it  is  true  ;  yet  great  mul- 
titudes, cordially  uniting,  may  effect  much.  Time  was, 
since  I  can  remember,  when,  if  I  had  possessed  the 
means  in  other  respects,  I  should  hardly  have  known  how  to 
reach  out  the  blessing,  beyond  my  own  contracted  circle. 


360  I'HOiVI  ACCEPTING  ASTON,         [ClIAP.   XIII. 

But  this  society,  and  others  of  a  similar  nature,  so  to 
speak,  Icns^then  mj/  arms  ;  and,  by  concuning  heartily 
in  the  tlesigns  of  those  who  conduct  them,  we  may 
stretch  out  our  hands  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  east 
and  of  the  west — of  Africa,  of  Asia,  of  America,  as  well 
as  of  Europe  :  and  give  to  them  the  lif^Jit  of  life.  Let  us 
then  do  what  we  can,  while  here  ;  and  so  wait  for  the 
mercy  o^ our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  unto  eternal  life/^ 

Before  bringing  the  present  chapter  to  a  close,  we  may 
advert  to  the  general  effect  of  my  father's  residence  and 
labours  at  Aston.     Upon  the   whole   he  found  it  a  more 
encouraging  situation  than  any  other  in   which  he  had 
been  placed  since  he  quitted  the  curacy  at  Ravenstone.  In 
bad  weather  indeed  the  state  of  the  roads  were  such,  that 
a  great  number  of  his  hearers  were  unable  to   reach  the 
church  ;    and,  on  various  accounts,  the  congregation  fluc- 
tuated  from  time  to  time,  especially  after  the  opening  of  a 
Baptist  meeting  in  the  neighbourliood,  to  which  no  small 
pains  were  taken  to  draw  all  persons  who  manifested  any 
religious  seriousness  ;  and  which  was,  in  consequence,  a 
source  of  considerable  obstruction  and  uneasiness  to  him. 
Yet,  in  general,  the  church  was  well  attended,  and  much 
good  was  done.     Many  careless  and  worldly    persons, 
and  not  a  few  who  had   led  even  profligate   lives,  were 
"  converted  from  the  error  of  their  ways,^'  and  "  brought 
forth  fruits  meet  for  repentance  :*'  and   a  considerable 
body  of  evidently  pious  and   well-instructed  Christians 
was  formed  around  him :  though  he  had  to  lament,  and  did 
deeply  lament  over  many  even  of  his  nearest  neighbours, 
who  still  held  out  against  all  his  admonitions  and  his  pray- 
ers.    Nor  was  this  all  :  by  the   earnest  and  active  cha- 
racter of  his  united  piety  and    benevolence,   an  impres- 
sion was  made  on  the  surrounding  neighbourhood  :  an 
interest  was  excited  in  behalf  of  religious  institutions  ; 


1801 — 1813.]  TO  THE  SETTLEMENT  OF  HIS  BIBLE.     361 

schools  were  established,  and  associations  formed  for  the 
relief  of  the  sick  and  needy,  where  previously  no  such 
things  had  been  thought  of.  To  stir  up  Christians  "  to 
improve  their  talents"  was  a  prominent  object  of  his  in- 
instructions ;  and,  while  he  set  them  so  eminent  an  ex- 
ample of  the  duty  inculcated,  '^  his  labour  was  not,"  and 
could  not  be,  "  in  vain  in  the  Lord." 

A  case,  in  which  his  assistance  was  solicited  soon  after 
he  took  up  his  abode  at  Aston,  may  also  well  deserve  to 
be  mentioned  here,  not  only  as  it  led  to  the  settlement  of 
his  second  son  in  the  situation  which  he  still  occupies, 
but  especially  for  the  extraordinary  display  of  Christian 
benevolence  and  liberality  which  it  furnishes.  Mr.  John 
West,  a  native  of  the  village  of  Gawcott,  (a  hamlet  of 
the  parish  of  Buckingham,)  born  and  brought  up  in  very 
humble  life,  and  living  to  the  end  of  his  days  in  a  style 
little  superior  to  that  of  a  country  labourer,  had  realized, 
chiefly  by  dealing  in  thread  lace, (the  manufacture  of  the 
county,)  a  fortune  of  several  thousand  pounds.  Having 
himself  learned,  chiefly  from  the  unassisted  study  of  the 
scriptures,  the  value  of  a  Saviour,  the  great  importance 
of  Christian  truths,  and  the  great  privilege  of  religious 
worship,  he  looked  with  feelings  of  compavssion  and  deep 
concern  upon  the  irreligious  state  of  his  native  village, 
containing  nearly  five  hundred  inhabitants,  without  any 
place  of  worship  among  them,  and  situate  a  mile  and  a 
half  from  their  parish  church.  He,  in  consequence, 
formed  the  generous  purpose  of  supplying,  entirely  from 
his  own  funds,  the  deficiency  which  he  deplored.  Nor 
did  he  content  himself,  as  many  have  done,  with  ma- 
king the  requisite  provision  by  will  for  the  posthumous 
execution  of  his  design  :  he  rosolved  immediately  to 
give  up,  during  his  life- time,  4000/.  or  5000/.  for  the 
purpose  of  building  and  endowing  a  chapel  at  Gawcott. 

2Z 


362  FROM  ACCEPTING  ASTON  [ChAP.   XIIL 

AiTordingly  the  chnpcl  was  promptly  raised  :  but,  the 
founder  being  a  de{  ided  churchman,  and  determined  to 
have  his  chapel  re,u;ularly  connected  with  the  establish- 
ment, and,  nt  thesame  time,  to  vest  the  patronage  in  such  a 
manner  as  he  thought  most  likely  to  secure  its  being  serv- 
ed by  a  succession  of  truly  pious  ministers,  he  had  now 
to  encounter  difliculties  ivhich  might  easily  have  been 
foreseen,  but  wliich  he  had  not  anticipated.  Under 
these  circumstances  my  father's  counsel  and  aid  were 
sought ;  and,  the  business  being  subsequently  turned  over 
to  my  brother,  whom  Mr.  W.  offered  to  nominate  as  fii^t 
minister  of  the  chapel,  it  was  at  length,  though  the 
friendly  interposition  of  the  Diocesan  (the  present  Bishop 
of  Winchester)  with  the  vicar  of  Buckingham,  brought 
to  a  successi'ul  issue.  The  chapel  was  opened  under  an 
episcopal  licence,  March  16,  j806,  and  consecrated 
May  14,  following.  The  founder  lived  to  see  and  re- 
joice in  the  happy  effects  of  his  pious  benevolence,  in 
the  improved  state  of  the  village  and  neighbourhood,  till 
September,  1814,  when  he  died  in  the  seventy-eighth 
year  of  his  age.  My  brother  published  a  funeral  sermon 
on  the  occasion,  with  a  memoir  prefixed,  in  which  some 
imj)ortant  re  flections  are  introduced,  on  the  great  disad- 
vantage under  which  the  establishment  is  placed  by  exist- 
ing laws,  as  com  pared  with  the  various  descriptions  of 
dissenters,  in  respect  to  the  erection  of  churches  or  chap- 
els ;  and  which  actually  amounts  to  the  exclusion  of  the 
people,  in  many  country  hamlets,  from  divine  worship 
jind  religious  instruction. 


1801—1813.]  1.ETTERS.  363 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


LETTERS  BELONGING  TO  THE  PERIOD  OF  THE  PRECEDING 

CHAPTER. 

We  now  proceed  to  my  father's  correspondence  during 
the  period  we  have  been  reviewing.  We  will  present 
some  extracts  bearing  upon  different  topics. 

I.  On  the  work  of  the  ministry. 

The  discouragement  arising  from  the  want  of  apparent 
success  is  a  feeling  to  which^  it  has  been  already  observed, 
those  who  are  labouring  in  ^Hhe  work  of  the  Lord/^ 
against  all  the  obstacles  of  this  evil  world,  must  be  often 
exposed.  To  such  persons  the  following  observations 
may  be  both  interesting  and  useful : — 

^^  March  11,  1804.  You  express  great  discourage- 
ment as  to  the  success  of  your  ministerial  labours  ;  of 
course  you  mean  the  visible  success.  This,  I  am  con- 
vinced, is  a  temptation  to  which  you  are  peculiarly  ex- 
posed, and  peculiarly  accessible  :  yet,  if  it  once  get  fast 
hold  of  your  mind,  it  will  have  a  very  unfavourable  effect 

on  the  aggregate  of  your  usefulness  in  future  life 

I  trust  God  has  given  you  a  simple  desire  of  serving  and 
glorifying  him  as  a  ChHstian :  nay,  I  cannot  but  think 
you  set  out  with  such  a  desire  of  glorifying  him  as  a  min- 
ister, by  directing  all  your  studies  and  labours  to  that 
grand  object,  the  salvation  of  sinners  ;  subordinating  all 
other  pursuits  to  it.     Now,  if  this  be  so,  can  you  believe 


364  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV. 

tliathe  intends,  after  all,  to  leave  you  finally  to  labour  in 
vain,  and  spend  your  strength  to  little  or  no  purpose  ? 
Should  such  a  feeling  possess  your  mind,  you  may  not 
cease  to  serve  God  as  a  Christian  ;  but  tliot  fire  which 
must  aniir.ate  the  zealous  minister  will  be  smothered,  or 
at  least  damped  ;  and  you  will  gradually  get  to  seek  that 
satisfaction  in  other  engngements,  studies,  and  pursuits, 
which  the  ministry  of  the  gospel  has  not  afforded,  and 
which  you  prematurely  concluded  that  you,  in  partic\ilar, 
were  not  to  derive  from  it.  In  consequence,  you  may 
render  yourself  respectable,  perhaps  more  so,  in  the  world ; 
but  no  literary  honours,  no  worldly  prosperity  or  repu- 
tation, no  usefulness  in  any  other  line,  can  satisfy  the  ar- 
dent desire  of  my  heart  in  respect  of  you,  if  you  be  not 
useful,  I  will  sslJ  extensively/  usQfu\,  as  a  minister.  With- 
out  a  measure  of  enthusiastic  earnestness  in  the  pui^uit 
of  his  object,  you  know  no  man  succeeds  greatly  in  any 
thing  :  beware  then  of  that  discouragement,  which  (to  use 
your  own  word,)  tends  to  par  alize  your  efforts.  Remem- 
ber, that  there  \^joy  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that  re- 
penteth  ;  (I  preached  on  that  subject  this  afternoon:) 
and,  supposing  only  one  in  a  year  should  be  brought  to 
repentance,  what  else  can  you  do  that  would  cause  joy  to 
holy  angels?  ....  Perhaps,  at  first  setting  out.  you  might 
be  ready  to  think  that  a  style  of  preaching,  which 
was  generally  acceptable  to  pious  people,  was  all  that 
need  be  aimed  at  ;  and  that  success  would  follow  of 
course.  It  may  be  needful  for  you  to  learn,  that  pious 
persons  hear  more  for  themselves  than  for  their  unconvert- 
ed neighbours;  and  that  you  must  risk  dissatisfying  some 
of  them,  if  you  would  declare  the  whole  counsel  of  God^ 
and  keep  yourscM'  pure  from  the  blood  of  all  ?ne7i.  Per- 
haps you  looked  at  some  individuals  as  models,  and  too 
much  proposed  imitating  them  ;  though  rather  cramping 


IgOl — 1813.]        LETTERS.  365 

the  energy  of  your  spirit  by  so  doing.     I  say  perhaps  in 
these  things,  merely  to  excite  a  question.     But  my  pre- 
valent opinion  is,  that  you  are  useful,  but  do  not  see  the 
effect.     Even  at  Ravenstone  I  remember  complaining  in 
a  new  year's  sermon,  that  for  a  whole  twelvemonth  I  had 
seen  no  fruit  of  my  preaching  :  yet  it  appeared,   within 
the  course  of  the   next  twelvemonth,  that  not  less  than 
ten  or  twelve  had  been  brought  to  consider  their  ways, 
during  that  discouraging  year ;  besides  others,   I  trust, 
that  I  did  not  know  of.     Cast  thy  bread  on  the  waters, 
and  it  shall  he  found  after  many  days.     In  the  morning 
sow  thy  seed,' and  in  the  evening  withhold  not  thine  hand  ; 
for  thou  canst  not  tell  which  shall  prosper,  or  whether 
both  shall  be  alike  good.     Endeavour  by  laying  open  the 
holy  law,  very  particularly,  to  follow  men  into  all  the 
parts  of  their  lives,  and  actions,  and  thoughts.     Dwell 
much  on  the  nature  and  effects  of  regeneration,  repen- 
tence,  faith  ;  and  on  the  peculiarities  of  the  gospel,  espe- 
eially  the  love  of  Christ.     Pray  much  for  direction,  as- 
sistance, and  a  blessing  5  and  for  simplicity  oi  intention  and 
dependence.     Try  to  be  stationary  ;  but  to  bring  forth 
things  new,  as  well  as  old  ;  that  your  profiting  may  ap- 
pear unto  all :  and  wait  patiently  in  this  way.     Or,  in 
the  apostle's  words.  Give  thyself  wholly  thereunto:  Take 
heed  to  thyself  and  to  the  doctrine;  coutiyiue^in  them  ; 
for,  in  so  doing,  thou  shall  both  save  thyself  and  them 
that  hear  thee.     In  this  way,  I  have  no  doubt  that  you 
will  eventually  find  a  large  number  to  be  your  croivn  of 
rejoicing  in  the  day  of  Christ ;  nay,  many  to  be  your 
comfort  here.     But  waiting  is  as  necessary  as  preaching 
^nd  praying." 

In  another  letter :  ••  The  Lord  generally  does  good  to 

us,  and  then  by  us Should  a  dozen  careless  sinners, 

amidst  hundreds  of  drowsy  hearers,  be  effectuallv  awak 


366  LET TKKb.  [Chap.  XIV. 

ened,  this  would  make  all  tlie  rest  begin  to  look  about 
them.  For  such  an  event  I  would  look,  and  hope,  and 
pray  ;  and  preach  such  sermons  as  seem  best  cal^  ulated 
for  the  effect ;  saying  to  all  that  might  object,  "  h  there 
not  a  cause  .^" 

To  a  young  minister,  about  to  remove  to  London,  he 
wrote  as  follows  : — 

<••  July  2,  1807.  You  know  I  am  not  peculiarly  favour-     ^ 
able  to  young  ministers  fixing  in  London,  where  almost 
all  are  either  hugged  or  kicked  to  death,  according  as 
they  are  popular  or  unpopular  ;  and  that  I  am  partial  to  a 
country  village  of  tolerable  size I  hope  you  will  re- 
double your  earnestness  in  prayer  as  the  importance  of 
your  station  is  increased.     I  should  think  that  considera- 
ble time  employed  in  study  of  the  scriptures,  and  such 
books  as  elucidate  the  scriptures,  is  so  needful  on  enter- 
ing on  a  station  in  that  large  city,  in  order  that  your    i 
ministry  may  be  less  and  less  like  the  superficial  declama- 
tion of  too  many  young  ministers,  that,  unless  necessity    | 
urges,  it   would    be    best   not   to  be  encumbered  with 
pupils  at  present.     I  should  be  glad  to  hear  that  you 
wrote    a    good   deal,  though  you  should  not  use  what 
you  write,  either  in  preaching  or  print :  it  gives  a  man 
a  readiness,  a  correctness  of  thinking  an  d  expression  on 
theological  subjects,  and  a  fulness,  which  mere  reading  will 
never  do.  Have,  however,  something  to  dq,  which  maybe 
a  reason  for  declining  many  of  those  gossiping  unprofita- 
ble visits,  in  which  so  many  London  ministers  waste,  and 
worse  than  waste,  their  hours.'' 

Some  publications,  which  appeared  about  that  time, 
occasioned  the  following  remarks  in  a  letter  to  a  lady, 
whose  connexions  lay  in  the  most  respectable  classes  of  re- 
ligious society  : — 

^»  I  am  not  sorry  for  the  opportunity  of  speaking  my 


1801—1813.]  LETTERS.  367 

mind,  not  only  on  this,  but  on  some  other  publications, 
which  have  a  measure  of  the  same  tendency.  It  may,  1 
think,  without  partiality,  be  said,  that  the  body  of  men, 
called  evangelical  clergymen^  (I  do  not  say  who  gave  them 
that  name — I  did  not,)  are  the  persons,  at  least  within  the 
church,  from  whom  there  is  the  greatest  hope  of  a  revi^ 
val  of  genuine  Christianity.  Now,  is  it  possible  that 
you,  and  ybur  pious  and  sensible  friends,  can  think,  that 
bringiug  forward,  in  so  public  a  manner,  by  a  professed 
friend,  without  mercy  or  distinction.,  all  their  real  and 
supposed  faults,  is  the  way  to  strengthen  their  hands,  and 
to  promote  their  success  ?  The  tendency  of  such  a  sys- 
tem is,  to  make  the  young  people,  especially,  hear  our  ser- 
mons, and  take  up  our  books,  not  only  with  prejudice,  but 
with  a  secret  desire  of  shewing  their  discernment,  by  dis- 
covering defects  in  style,  in  manner,  &c.  ;  something 
^  vulgar,  and  methodistical,  or  sectarian,^  or  like  it.  Now, 
can  this  subserve  their  edification  ?  Such  writers  as  the 
Monthly  Reviewers  have,  in  many  instances,  pointed 
out  inaccuracies,  colloquial  and  low  expressions,  &c.,  in 
my  writings  ;  and  I  have  thanked  them,  and  profited  by 
their  remarks  :  but  this  way  of  indefinitely  speaking  of 
defects,  and  faults,  and  vulgarity,  and  casts  of  sectarian- 
ism, and  the  like,  without  specifying  particulars,  excites 
prejudices,  and  gives  no  opportunity  of  avoiding  them. 
I  have,  for  almost  thirty  years,  been  labouring  to  weed 
out  of  my  writings,  and  to  induce  othess  to  do  the  same, 
every  unscriptural  expression,  from  whatever  quarter 
or  company  derived  :  but  no  distinction  is  made  between 
this  and  the  slang  of  a  sect  or  party.  Nay,  it  seems, 
scriptural  language  itself  must  be  changed  for  more  mod- 
ern terms ;  and  then  modern  doctrines  will  supplant  that 
of  the  apostles.  It  is  also  to  me  a  very  extraordinary 
thing,  that  wisdom  and   prudence  should  be  the  young 


368  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV. 

man's  virtues,  and  rashness  the  old  man's  favdt.  This 
does  not  accord  to  facts  in  general.  In  reality,  I  do  be- 
lieve publications  of  this  kind  tend  to  render  young 
ministers  more  afraid  of  being  zealous  than  of  being 
lukewarm.  They  teach  them  to  call  the  fear  of  many 
prudence  :  and  the  whole  tends  to  form  an  ineflicient 
ministry  :  some  part,  at  least,  of  evangelical  truth  coldly? 
formally,  cautiously  stated,  with  little  application.  And, 
after  all,  I  must  prefer  the  Newtons,  Venns,  nay  Berridg- 
es,  &c. — the  old  warm-hearted  men,  with  all  their  im- 
perfections, to  these  sangfroid  young  men." 

With  this  extract  may  be  connected  another  addressed 
to  myself,  in  November  of  the  same  year,  which  was  af- 
terwards made  the  basis  of  a  paper  in  a  periodical  pub- 
lication.* These  heads  of  the  paper  may  sufficiently 
explain  his  sentiments  in  this  place  : 

"  You  wish  my  opinion  on  the  controverted  question, 
how  far  the  faults  of  upright  ministei^  are  proper  sub- 
jects of  public  discussion  ?  a  question  at  this  era  peculi- 
arly interesting,  as  more  is  said  by  many  professed 
friends  on  their  faults,  real  or  imaginary,  than  on  those 
of  any  other  description  of  persons — at  least  with  more 
minuteness.  1st,  I  do  not  think  any  order  of  men  privi- 
ledged  by  exemption  from  proper  investigation,  andy?/*^ 
censure  of  their  conduct  :  nor  would  such  an  exemption 
be  an  advantage,  but  the  contrary.  2d,  I  think  that,  in 
examining  and  censuring  any  body  of  men,  either  they 
should  be  viewed  alone  ;  or,  if  another  body  be  brought 
forward  with  them,  the  faults  of  both  bodies  should  be 
specified  with  equal  severity  and  equal  candour  :  else 
where  is  impartiality  ?  3d,  I  think  that,  in  order  to  this 
investigation  and  censure,  some  precise  rule  should  be 

*  Christian  Guardian,  May,  1810.. 


1801 1813.]  LETTERS.  369 

previously  laid  down,   (for  instance,  of  the   evangelical 
clergy,  the  Bible  and  Prayer-book,)  and  nothing  charged 
as  a  fault  which  cannotbeshewntobe  such  by  this  precise 
rule.     Otherwise,  opinion,  however  erroneous,  or  cus- 
tom, however  corrupt,  or  fancy,  however  capricious^  majf 
be  made  the  standard,  according  to  the  prejudices  of  the 
soi-disant  judge.      4th,  I  think  that  the  real  excellencies 
of  upright  characters,  allowedly  such,  (and  especially  of 
those  from  whom  the  best  hope  of  good  to  the  rising  gen- 
eration of  mankind,  in  general,  arises,)  should  be  prom- 
inently marked,  whenfaidts  are  to  be  pointed  out ;  and 
nothing  aggravated  ;  nay,  all  touched  as  leniently  as  the 
hope  of  amending  them  will  allow  :  and  if,  in  any  collec- 
tive body,  some  individuals  are  excepted  from  the  gene- 
ral charge,  they  should  not  only  be    exempted  from  the 
censure  conveyed,  but  honourably  distinguished.     It  can 
answer  no  good  purpose  needlessly  to   sink  the    credit 
and  influence  of  the  only  men  who  seem  likely  to  do  ex- 
tensive good  among  us  ;  which  has  lately  been  done  to  a 
great  degree.     5th,  I  think  that,  in  every  thing  respect- 
ing style,   manner,   &c.,  the  charge  should  be  specific 
and  precise,  not  vague  and  general ;  that  we  may  know 
what  to  correct :  which  is  not  the  case  in    many  of  the 
censures  passed.     Lastly,  God  gives  one  gift  to  one,  ano- 
ther to  another  :  the  treasure  is  in  earthern  vessels  :  but 
ideal  perfection,  like  that  of  the  hero  of  a  novel,  is  made 
the  standard,  and  all  in  real  life  are  despised  for  falling 

short  of  it." 

My  father,  it  is  generally  known,  was  accustomed  to 
use  a  short  prayer,  adapted  to  the  occasion,  before  his 
sermons :  to  preach  extemporary,  or,  more  properly 
speaking,  unwritten  sermons ;  and  those  of  a  greater 
length  than  is  in  many  places  usual.  On  the  first  of  these 

-        3A 


370  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV. 

practices,  he  wrote  ratlur  urgently,  after  a  visit  to  Hull 
in  1811  : — 

<*  I  do  greatly  wish  an  alteration  in  your  prayer  before 
sermon.  Here  I  do  not  urge  you  to  pray  exttmpore  ; 
but  only  to  bring  together  some  pnrts  of  difier'nt  collects, 
or  in  some  way  to  make  your  collect  a  prayer  for  assist- 
ance, and  a  blessing  on  the  important  service  on  which 
you  are  entering.  It  may  be  said  that  you  pray  for  as- 
sistance and  a  blessing  in  private  :  but  do  you  lay  no  stress 
on  the  concurrence  of  hundreds  in  prayer  for  this  bless- 
ing ?  and,  so  to  speak,  on  the  sympathy  excited  in  a  con- 
gregation by  a  few  words,  not  much,  if  at  all,  longer  than 
your  collect,  in  which  the  divine  assistance  and  blessing 
are  avowedly  cravedrou  the  sermon?  It  appears  to  me 
often  to  electrify  the  congregation  ;  and  to  produce  the 
expectation  and  the  desire  of  good,  which  is  more  espe- 
cially needful.  The  collects  are  not  calculated  for  this 
purpose  ;  they  do  not  express  the  special  blessing  want- 
ed :  and  they  lie  more  open  to  the  objection  of  repeat- 
ing prayers  already  ofl'ered,  than  what  I  contend  for. 
I  cannot  express  how  much  I  felt  this  deficiency.  I  must 
be  allowed  to  think,  that  we  have  not  success,  because 
we  ask  not,  and  do  not  stir  up  others  to  expect  and  ask 
the  blessing  from  God  only.  I  beg  you  will  consider  and 
pray  over  it.  Every  year  convinces  me  more  and  more 
of  the  necessity  of  thus  expressly  asking  the  blessing 
from  God,  publicly,  on  our  preaching. 

On  the  other  points,  I  give  the  following  brief  ex- 
tracts : — 

"  1808.  The  fault  of  short  sermons  is,  not  that 
there  is  not  as  much  said  as  the  hearers  can  remember, 
but  that  there  is  not  room  for  explanation  and  applica- 
tion ;  for  entering  into  those  minute  particulars  which 
most  come  home  to  the  conscience.  And,  Jis  to  the  length, 


1801—1813.]  LETTERS.  371 

what  people  are  used  to,  they  expect,  and  complain  only 
of  what  exceeds  it,  be  the  stint  more  or  less." 

"  1812.  I  never  heard  a  half-hour  sermon,  which  did 
not  either  fail  in  particular  instruction  in  doctriue  and  duty, 
or  was  not,  in  part,  frustrated  of  its  effect  by  too  rapid  de- 
livery." 

^*  1809.  The  degree  in  which,  after  the  most  careful 
preparation  for  the  pulpit,  new  thoughts,  new  arguments, 
animoted  addresses,  often  flow  into  my  mind,  while  speak- 
ing to  a  congregation,  even  on  very  common  subjects, 
makes  me  feel  as  if  1  was  quite  another  man,  than  when 
poring  over  them  in  my  study. — ^There  will  be  inaccu- 
racies :  but  generally  the  most  striking  things  in  my  ser- 
mons were  unpremeditated." 

"  February  12,  18J2.     What  lies  do  men  tell  of  us 

evengelical  and  Calvinistic  ministers  !   Witness  Dr. 's 

sermon  at  Cambridge.  We  are  not  likely  to  fall  under 
the  woe  denounced  against  those  of  whom  all  men  speak 
well:  but  if  we  enjoy  the  blessing  of  those  concerning 
whom  men  speak  evil  falsely,  for  Chrisfs  sake,  it  may 
console  us  for  all  the  effects  of  their  slanders.  I  have  pray- 
ed for  such  persons  more  of  late  than  formerly,  in  the  use 
of  the  Litany ;  for  ^all  bishops,  priests,  and  deacons,'  &c. ; 
for  those  who  are  '  in  error,  that  they  may  be  led  into  the 
way  of  truth :'  and  for  all  our  '  slanderers,'  &c. 

"  1 804.  I  fear  many  are  too  timid,  as  many  are  harsh^ 
rash,  and  unfeeling  upon  the  subject.  Nothing  does  so 
much  harm  as  trying  to  k-ep  fair  with  anti-scriptural  and 
unholy   preachers ;  which  I  fear,  though  less  offensive 

than  Mr.  's  abuse,  is  as  pernicious.     May  the  Lord 

keep  us  from  extremes  !" 

II.  On  provision  for  families,  and  education  of  children, 
particularly  those  of  ministers. 


S12  LETTERS.  [CllAP.  XIV. 

In  reply  to  some  questions  concerning  life  insurance,  in 
1805,  he  made  the  following  observations  : 

''  Nor  do  I  think  it,  in  a  religious  view,  liable  to  any 
other  objection,  tlian  may  be  made  to  laying  by  money  at 
all — which  is  in  many  cases  allowable,  and  in  several  a 
duty  ;  where  it  can  be  done  consistently  with  equity  and 
chart  fi/.  If  a  man  have  faith  strong  enough,  and  urgent  oc- 
casions call  for  it,  he  may  do  perhaps  as  well  for  h's  family, 
if  he  expends  it  injudicious  charities.  But,  when  it  comes  to 
this,  that  a  man  has  more  than  he  ought  to  expend  on 
himself  and  his  family,  I  should  always  advise  him  to  lay 
aside  a  certain  portion  for  charitable  purposes,  before  he 
counts  the  rest  his  own,  either  to  spend  or  to  lay  by.  The 
proportion  must  be  determined  by  a  variety  of  circum- 
stances, according  to  his  conscience  in  the  sight  of  God. 
In  some  cases  I  should  think  it  proper  to  make  a  point  of 
disposing  in  charity  of  at  least  as  much  as  was  laid  by  : 
and  this  I  call  seed-corn,'^ 

^•August  30,  1807.  As  far  as  my  conscience  was  sa- 
tisfied as  to  the  question  of  duty,  I  never  have  allowed 
myself  to  hesitate  about  events  or  consequences.  I  can- 
not but  conclude  from  the  scriptures,  that  the  Lord  will 
provide  for  us  and  ours  what  is  needful  for  them,  at  pre- 
sent and  in  future  ;  and  that  our  concern  is,  to  do  our 
duty,  and  leave  the  rest  to  him,  living  and  dying.  This, 
I  think,  is  especially  the  privilege  of  the  disinterested  and 
ahorious  minister  :  but  I  am  sorry  to  say,  that  worldly  pru- 
dence, and  the  desire  of  making  provision  for  iiimilies,  not 
only  for  necessary  things,  but  for  gentility  and  aflluence, 
is,  in  my  opinion,  eating  out  the  life  of  spirituality,  and 
simple  trust  in  the  Lord,  even  among  those  who  preach 
scriptural  doctrine.  The  spirit  of  the  conunercial  world, 
having  long  corroded  the  professors  of  the  gospel,  is  now 
making  havoc  among  ministers.     The  plan  of  marrying 


1801 1813.]  LETTERS.  37^ 

rich  wives,  or  presiding  over  very  lucrative  academies^ 
would  have  made  St.  Paul  dolefully  cry  out^  Jill  seek  theii- 
own,  not  the  things  of  Jesus  Christ.  I  believe  those 
who  thus  seem  to  ensure  a  provision  for  their  families^  or 
security  against  the  effects  which  marriage  may  entail  on 
a  man  of  narrow  income^  are  clogged  in  their  ministry, 
nay  sink  in  general  estimation,  and  are  excluded  from 
usefulness,  more  than  they  are  aware  of.  Indeed  it  is  to 
me  one  of  the  most  discouraging  symptoms  of  the  religious 
state  of  our  land.  I  have  been  nearly  thirty -five  years 
in  orders  ;  and,  except  during  two  years  that  I  continued 
single,  my  regular  income,  as  a  minister,  would  never  de- 
fray more  than  half  my  expenditure :  yet,  though  often 
tried,  I  endeavoured  to  trust  the  Lord,  and  I  have  been 
provided  for.  Mr.  Newton's  story  of  the  nobleman  whom 
the  king  required  to  attend  to  his  business,  and  he  would 
take  care  of  the  nobleman's  interest  has  been  of  great  use 

to  me To  those,  who  seem  to  think  it  pitiable^  that 

your  children  are  not  previously  provided  for,  I  should 
fairly  avow  my  sentiments,  that  the  Christian,  and  above 
all  the  minister,  is  to  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  for 
himself  and  his  children,  and  that  God  has  expressly  pro- 
mised, that  all  else  shall  be  added.  Your  Father  know- 
eth  what  things  you  have  need  of.  If  I,  a  poor  sinner, 
had  100/.  to  spare  without  any  inconvenience,  and  knew 
that  you  really  wanted  it,  should  I  not  give  it  you  ?  How 
much  more  shall  your  heavenly  Father,  &c. 

^^  As  to  a  good  education^  in  the  sense  in  which  the 
term  is  often  used,  I  had  rather  my  daughters,  or  grand- 
daughters, should  know  nothing  more  than  to  read  and 
write,  and  do  plain  work,  than  send  them  (even  if  other? 
would  bear  the  expence,)  to  those  seminaries  of  frivolity^ 
vanity,  and  vice,  in  which  such  a  good  education  is  ob- 
tained.    If  brought  up  in  the  fear  of  God,  and  in  useful 


374  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV, 

knowledge,  without  afiecting  any  thing  superior,  or  gen- 
teel, . .  they  will,  at  least,  be  creditable  and  respectable. . . 
1l\\^  f^ood education,  so  called,  cannot  be  had  without  ha- 
bits, connexions,  associations  of  ideas,  &c.,  unfitting  them 
for  obscure  domestic  life 

"  I  am  a  great  friend  to  men's  doing  all  as  well  as  they 
possibh/  can  ;  but  an  enemy  to  ministers  being  swallowed 
up  in  the  employment  of  school-masters." 

In  the  same  strain  he  writes,  January  26,  1809. — 
^^  In  the  path  of  duty,  you  may  safely  trust  the  Lord  for 
a  suitable  provision,  however  probabilities  may  appear ; 
as  my  experience  for  many  years  abundantly  proves. 
.  .  .  .  While  I  do  not  materially  object  to  your  idea,  that,  if 
fairly  in  your  power,  it  might  be  proper  to  make  some 
provision  for  your  family,  I  would  exhort  you,  by  all 
means,  to  watch  against  all  anxiety,  about  either  the  pre- 
sent or  the  future  respecting  them.  Diligence,  frugality, 
prudence,  are  duties  ;  but  events  are  in  the  hands  of  God. 
The  tvealth  of  the  sinner  is  laid  up  for  the  just.  God 
can  provide  for  your  children  without  you,  you  cannot 
without  him." 

The  following  short  sentence,  in  a  letter  of  February 
12,  1812,  still  manifests  his  supreme  regard  for  the  great 
concern,  and  indifference  to  teniporal  interests  in  compa- 
rison with  it.  ''The  grand  mischief  o{ guardians  is, 
that  even  pious  persons  are  so  apt  to  consult  the  secular 
advantage  of  their  wards,  in  preference  to  their  spiritual 
good. 

The  following  counsel  to  his  youngest  son,  then  on  the 
eve  of  marriage,  October  5,  1811,  is  such  as  it  would 
have  been  for  the  happiness  of  thousands  to  have  duly 
regarded.  It  is  not  necessary  in  order  to  the  comfort  or 
respectability  of  a  clergyman,  to  raise  his  income  to  the 
level  of  a  large  expenditure ;  but  it  is  necessary  to  his 


1801—1813.]  LETTERS.  375 

comfort,  his  independence,  and  his  usefulness,  to  keep 
down  his  expences  within  the  limits  of  his  resources. 

"  Next  to  the  great  concerns  of  religion,  nothing  can 
be  more  important  than  frugality,  in  your  present  situa- 
tion and  prospects,  both  to  your  comfort,  respectability, 
and  usefulness.  If  your  launch  be  too  splendid,  you  will 
be  expected  to  keep  it  up  :  but  a  modest  frugal  appear- 
ance will  damp  such  expectations,  and  make  your  future 
progress  more  easy  and  unobstructed  :  and  you  must  not 
think  that  mean,  which  is  your  duty,  and  as  much  as  you 
can  w^ell  aiford. — May  the  Almighty  God  our  Saviour 
bless  you  in  your  soul  and  in  your  ministry  !  May  his 
blessing  be  abundantly  on  you,  and  on  your  intended  wife^ 
and  on  all  your  undertakings  1" 

III.  On  the  death  of  children  and  near  friends — with 
proofs  of  his  tenderness  and  sympathy. 

The  following  was  written  upon  the  supposition  of  the 
death  of  my  second  daughter. 

^^  March  13,  1805.  We  were  all  much  affected  at  the 
unexpected  account  of  poor  Fanny's  very  dangerous  dis- 
order, for  we  had  hoped  that,  by  proper  means,  her  cold 
would  soon  have  been  removed ;  and  we  very  sincerely 
sympathize  with  you.  Whatever  they  may  suppose,  who 
never  experienced  it,  few  things,  at  the  time,  more  pain 
the  heart,  than  the  loss  of  a  child,  even  when  young ;  and 
especially  at  the  time  when  a  thousand  little  circumstances 
render  it  more  and  more  interesting.  This  I  know  by  ex- 
perience :  yet,  after  a  time,  the  very  events,  which  filled 
my  heart  with  anguish  for  a  season,  were  looked  back 
upon  vvith  a  kind  of  melancholly  pleasure.  And,  when 
I  consider  what  a  dangerous  world  we  live  in,  I  can  almost 
rejoice  to  think,  that  three  of  my  children  arrived,  as  I 
fully  trust,  at  the  place  of  rest,  without  encountering  the 
perils  ;  and  tempests  of  the  passage.    My  prayer  used  to 


376  LETTERS.  [CaHP.  XlV. 

be,  as  the  result  of  my  deliberate  judgment,  though  not 
of  my  feelings,  that,  if  the  Lord  had  any  tiling  for  my 
children  to  do,  they  might  be  spared  ;  but  that  they 
might  not  live  to  be  the  servants  of  sin,  and  to  treasure 
up  wrath  :  and  I  trust  this  prayer  has  been,  or  will  be, 
fully  answered. — You  remember  to  have  heard  me  tell 
of  the  time,  when  you  were  the  only  survivor  of  three 
children,  and  were  dangerously  ill  of  the  same  fever  of 
which  your  sister  had  died  ;  how  my  heart  was  almost 
broken  :  but  I  am  persuaded  this  time  of  distress  was  pe- 
culiarly useful  to  me ;  and  1  often  look  back  to  it  with  ad- 
miring gratitude,  when  I  reflect  on  the  answer  to  my 
many  prayers,  which,  with  many  tears,  I  then  oflered  for 
you.  And  I  doubt  not  that  you  will  hereafter  look  back 
on  your  present  trial,  sharp  as  it  is,  in  the  same  manner. 
— Really  believing  that  every  human  being  will  exist  to 
eternal  ages,  and  that  the  children,  at  least  of  believers, 
dying  before  they  are  capable  of  committing  actual  sin, 
have  the  benefit  of  the  new  covenant ;  I  consider  the 
circumstance  of  being  instrumental  to  the  existence  of 
those,  who  shall  be  eternally  happy,  as  a  high  privilege 
and  favour  ;  even  though  they  be  speedially  taken  from 
us :  and  I  look  forward,  sometimes,  with  pleasure  to  the 
period,  when  I  hope  to  meet  again  those  who  were  early 
taken  from  me,  as  well  as  to  be  followed  by  those  that 
survive  me. 

^^  A  variety  of  circumstances  are  often  permitted  to  in 
crease  the  anguish  of  our  feelings  on  such  occasions  : 
and  especially  the  reflection  on  something,  that  either  we 
or  others  have  done  wrong,  which  proved  the  occasion 
of  the  aflliction.  But,  though  we  may  have  reason  to 
blame  the  misconduct  of  other  >,  or  to  regret  any  mistake 
we  may  suppose  that  we  have  made, — and  hence  may 
learn  something  useful  for  the  future  ;  yet  the  hand  of 


1801 1813.]        LETTERS.  377 

God  should  be  viewed  even  in  those  events,  which  take 
place  by  the  folly  and  faults  of  men  :  and  he  has  wise, 
righteous,  faithful,  and  gracious  reasons  for  what  he  did, 
and  for  what  he  permitted. 

"  It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  parents  should  not  feel 
and  grieve  much,  on  these  occasions;  and  indeed  the 
very  end  of  the  providential  dispensation  would  fail  of 
being  answered,  if  they  did  not :  but  I  would  remind 
your  wife,  especially,  that  grief  ought  no  more  to  be  in- 
dulged than  any  other  of  our   passions ;  though    many 
think,  that  being  inconsolable  at  the  loss  of  beloved  rela- 
tives is  amiable,  who  would  be  shocked  at  the  idea  of  in- 
dulging many  other  passions.     Every  thing  in  our  na- 
ture  wants  regulating,   moderating,  and   subordinating 
to  the  will  of  God ;  and  natural  affection  as  well  as  the 
rest.     Several  particulars,  in  which  faith  and  submission 
to  God  greatly  consist  on  earth,  will  have  no  place  in 
heaven.     Of  this  kind  is  patience  under  sharp  afflictions. 
This  is  very  honourable  to  God,  edifying  to  our  brethren, 
and  profitable  to  ourselves  :  but  without  sharp  affliction 
we  should  have  no  opportunity  of  exercising  it.     This  is, 
then,  an  opportunity  given  you  of  experiencing  and  man- 
ifesting the  power  and  excellency  of  your  principles  ; 
which  may  eventually  be  of  great  importance  in  various 
ways. — In  reading  of  our  Lord's  miracles,  the  reflection 
often  occurs  to  me,   would  not  those   who  endured  the 
sharpest  sorrows,  (Mary,  Martha,  and  Lazarus,  for  in- 
stance,) with  the  full  view  of  all  the  honour  to  Christ, 
and  all  the  good  to  mankind,  which  arose,  and  still  arises, 
and  shall  for  ever  arise,   from  .their  exquisite  anguish  of 
heart ;  have  been  willing  to  go  through  the  whole  again, 
if  again  such  vast  advantage  might  result  from  it  ?     At 
least,  they  would  not  on  any  account  have  escaped  suffer- 
ing what  they  did,  now  that  they  see  all  the  reasons  why 

3B 


♦• 


378  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV. 

they  siiffcred..  Yet.  at  the  time,  they  had  no  idea  of  the 
ends  to  he  answered  hy  their  distresses:  and  the  same 
wisdom  and  love  order  our  troubles,  both  as  to  the  nature 
and  the  result  of  them,  which  ordered  theirs.  JV/iat  I  do 
thft(  knoivest  not  noiv^  but  thou  shnlt  knmo  hereafter. 
— ^W  these  things  ay-e against  me!  But  what  does  Jacob 
now  think  of  these  transactioiis  ? 

"  All  this,  however,  you  know,  and,  I  trust,  remember. 
— I  would  also  hint,  that  you  should  be  careful  not  too 
much  to  indul.^e  the  fond  remembrance  of  endearing  cir- 
cumstances ;  for  this  feeds  a  kind  and  degree  of  grief,  not 
consistent  with  submission  to  the  will  of  God. — If  I  may 
judge  by  myself,  you  will  find  this  dispensation,  in  the 
event,  greatly  subservient  in  helping  you  to  realize  an 
unseen  world,  and  in  exciting  earnestness  in  prayer.     As 
a  minister,  you  will  often  have  occasion  to  counsel   and 
comfort  others  in  similar  circumstances  ;  and  you  will  do 
this  both  with  more  feeling  and  more  influence,  as  having 
experienced  the  painful  trial  yourself.     Perhaps  many 
trials  are  allotted  us  on  this  very  account :  (2  Cor.  i.  4 
— 6:)  and  this  suggests  an  important  plea,  in  prayer,  for 
wisdom  and  grace  to  bear  and  improve  the  trial  in  a  pro- 
per manner. — We  are  apt  to  say  of  this  or  the  other  crea- 
ture, This  same  shall  comfort  us  :  and  thus  the  gifts  of 
our  God  insensibly  draw  our  hearts  from  him  ;  and  then 
it    becomes  necessary,    almost,  for  him  to  wither  our 
gourds.     He  does  so  in  love  ;   and  we  shall  know^  at 
length,  that  we  have  cause  to  be  thankful. — When  I  think 
of  the  manner  in  which  Aaron  lost  his  two  sons,  Nadab 
and  Abihu,  (Lev.  x.)  and. David  his,  Amnon  and  Absa- 
lom ;  and  of  many  other  instances  of  this  kind  ;  I  am  ready 
to  say.  How  light,  comparatively,  would  the   trial  have 
been,  had  they  lost  them  when  infants  !     And  yet  they 


1801—1813.]  LETTERS.  379 

would  have  felt,  in  that  case,  the  same  things  that  you 
now  do. 

"^  I  have  written  a  great  deal,  of  what,  in  some  cases^ 
m^^ht  be  called  common  place  ;  and,  not  being  very  well, 
I  ^.eem  to  have  little  energy  in  writing :  but.  in  affliction 
a  hint  suggested  to  memory  is  often  welcome  and  «isefal 
I  shall  onlv  add  that,  if  Frances  should  give  way  to  grief, 
so  SIS  not  to  take  proper  care  of  her  health,  she  would 
shew  love  where  it  must  be  useless,  and  fail  in  it  where 
it  may  be  essentially  beneficial  :  as  well  as  in  submission 
to  riod. — I  write  on  the  supposition  that  the  dear  child 
either  is  gone,  or  will  not  recover  :  but  perhaps  the  Lord 
may  have  heard  prayer  for  her  recovery.'' 

Some  other  short  extracts  may  shew  the  warmth  of  his 
aflPection  not  only  to  his  grand-children,  who  were  the 
immediate  objects  of  them,  but  towards  some  whom  he 
had  long  since  lost,  but  never  ceased  to  remember  with 
tenderness. 

^^  July  28,  1805.  I  feel  for  my  poor  dear  Jane,  who,  I 
suppose,  hardly  remembers  me  :  but  her  name^^^  (she  was 
Galled  after  her  grand  mother,)  "  and  every  thing,  makes 
me  feel  tenderly  for  her." 

"  January  1 1,  1807.  As  I  am  rather  dry  in  my  man- 
ner. I  do  not  know  whether  you  were  aware,  how  much 
was  my  favourite,  when  I  was  at  Hull.  The  ac- 
count of  her  sickness  and  suffering,  and  all  respecting 
her,  affected  me  more  than  you  would  probably  suppose  : 
and  the  thoughts  of  my  ever  dear  Anne  came  into  my 
mind,  with  a  force  that  I  have  not  felt  for  some  years. — 
Well,  I  began  to  be  comforted  under  the  idea,  that,  if 

poor  should  be  taken  from  you  and  us,  the  Lord 

would  prepare  her,  or  was  preparing  her,  for  a  happier 
world.  But  other  things  followed  which  more  deeply  af- 
fected me.     However,  after  all,  I  hope  that  God  will 


• 


380  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV. 

hear  prayer,  and  spare  the  clear  child  ;  and  spare  her  for 
good  ;  and  over- rule  the  whole  for  good  to  you  all,  old 
and  young.     I  am  sure  our  prayers  are  not  wanting." 

When  il^e  distance^  to  whicli  some  of  us  were  removed 
from  him,  was  complained  of,  he  wrote  as  follows. 

^'  I  am  sure  I  regret  as  much  as  you  can  do,  the  distance 
at  which  we  are  placed  ;  yet  we  must  not  let  this  consi- 
deration have  undue  w^eight.  I  do  love  to  he  with  my 
children,  and  to  have  them  ahout  me  ;  but  every  one  has 
his  place,  and  ought  to  have  ;  and  ail  our  feelings  must  be 
submitted  to  the  w  ill  of  God." 

^-'  I  endeavour  to  consider  the  case  of  those,  whose 
children  are  missionaries  in  distant  lands  ;  nay,  of  those 
whose  children,  from  worldly  motives,  are  far  removed  from 
them.  Each  seem  to  think,  that  if  their  beloved  rela- 
tives are  doing  well,  though  far  off,  all  is  well.  We  must 
be  the  salt  and  light  of  the  world,  and  be  scattered  for 
that  purpose.  Let  us  then  submit  to  God,  and  give  the 
more  diligence  that  we  may  meet  in  heaven  with  exceed- 
ing joy.  St.  Paul  greatly  desired  /o  ^ee  Timothy,  being 
mindful  of  his  tears  ^  that  he  might  he  filled  with  joy:  yet, 
at  the  call  of  duty,  they  must  separate.  The  elders  of 
Ephesus  sorrowed  most  of  all  that  they  must  see  his  face 
no  more :  yet,  they  must  part :  and,  no  doubt,  after  a 
time,  they  had  a  blessed  meeting,  when  their  teal's  were 
turned  into  joy  y 

In  these  extracts  he  speaks  for  himself :  in  the  following 
another  speaks  of  him. 

^*^  June  12,  1809.  Yesterday  your  dear  lather  preach- 
ed two  capital  sermons  on  Psalm  cxix.  32.  and  Mark  x. 
13,  14  :  the  last  of  which  was  on  the  occasion  of  T.  H. 
having  his  two  youn.i^est  children  baptized.  I  think  I 
hardly  ever  heard  him  so  eloquent  and  pathetic.  Among 
other  things,  he  mentioned  his  own  children  and  grand- 


1801—1813.]  LETTERS,  381 

children,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  in  such  a  manner  as 
brought,  I  believe,  tears  into  the  eyes  of  several  others. 
The  picture  he  drew  of  Christ,  '  lifting  up  his  holy  hands, 
and  blessing  the  young  children,'  would  really  have  been 
a  fine  subject  for  a  painter.'' 

To  his  friend  in  Northumberland  he  again  wrote  No- 
vember 20, 1808. 

"  Dear  Mrs.  R ,  If  I  had  not  a  most  clear  and 

full  excuse,  my  conduct  in  not  writing  to  you  would  be 
exceedingly  blameable  :  but  I  am  so  engaged  with  my 
publications,  with  letters  of  business  thus  rendered  una- 
voidable, with  instructing  missionaries  placed  under  my 
care,  and  with  my  ministerial  employments :  that  I  am 
compelled  to  decline  all  correspondence  which  is  not  ab- 
solutely necessary.  It  must  also  be  remembered  that  I 
am  growing  old,  (almost  sixty- two,)  and  never  was  very 
healthy  :  and  I  can  assure  you  that  I  am  weary  every 
night  at  bed  time,  as  much  as  any  poor  labourer.  Yet, 
bless  God,  my  health  is  not  much  worse  than  when  you 
were  with  me,  bating  infirmities  of  old  age  :  and  I  go  on 
preaching  as  often,  as  long,  and  as  loud,  perhaps,  as  for- 
merly, and  with  great  encouragement  in  this  obscure 
place. 

"  I  wish  I  was  like  St.  Paul  who  could  say,  always 
in  every  prayer  of  mine  for  you  all,  fnaking  request  ivith 
joy :  but  I  hope  I  do  not  quite  forget  you  and  your's. 
I  feel  gratified  by  your  letter  ;  it  calls  to  my  mind,  what 
always  refreshes  it,  the  scenes  which  took  place  when  you 
were  with  us :  and  I  hope  and  trust  that  he  who,  (as  I 
then  most  confidently  believed,  and  still  do^)  began  a 
good  work  in  you,  ivill perform  it  till  the  day  of  Christ. 
I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  that  any  of  your  children  are  walk- 
ing in  the  Lord's  ways  :  and  I  would  encourage  your 
hope  of  the  others.     Only  give  them  good  instructions  : 


382  •  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIV. 

exercise  parental  autliority  with  firmness,  as  well  as  kind- 
ness, by  reproofs  and  corrections  when  necessary,  &c.  ; 
set  before  them  sednlously  an  edifying  example  ;  and 
pray  for  them  continnally  and  fervently  :  then  wait,  and 
hope,  and  acquiesce  in  the  will  ofOod  ;  and  even  those  who 
now  seem  less  promising  will  perhaps  become  your  comfort. 
What  you  mention  of  your  sister  is  also  very  pleasant  to 
me  ;  and,  were  it  practicable,  I  should  be  glad  to  see  and 
converse  with  you  both :  but  I  suppose  we  shall  not  meet, 
till  we  meet,  as  I  hope,  in  heaven. 

"  I  would  not,  however,  discourage  your  writing.  I 
am  drawing  near  the  close  of  my  work,  on  which  I  have 
spent  ten  years  :  and  after  that,  I  may  be  more  at  liberty 
to  answer  your  letters.  At  present,  I  must  conclude. 
Mrs.  S.  and  my  daughter  are  well,  (or  as  well  as  usual,) 
and  unite  in  respects  and  good  wishes.  May  the  al- 
mighty God,  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
shower  down  all  blessings,  especially  spiritual  blessings, 
abundantly,  on  you,  your  husband,  your  children,  your 
brother^  &c.  :  this  is  the  sincere  prayer  of  your  faithful 
friend  and  servant  in  Christ,  Thomas  Scott.'' 

In  October  1809,  my  father  lost  his  esteemed  friend 
and  patron,  Mr.  Barber.  I  have  great  pleasure  in  being 
allowed  to  insert  his  letter  to  Mrs.  Barber  on  this  occa- 
sion, both  for  its  own  excellence,  from  the  regard  justly 
due  to  the  family,  and  because  of  the  happy  impression 
which  it  appears  to  have  made  on  the  minds  of  those  im- 
mediately concerned  in  it.  The  reader,  I  persuade  my- 
self, would  wish  to  see  it  entire,  though  it  may  repeat 
some  thoughts  contained  in  a  letter  recently  inserted. 

"  October  8,  1809.  My  dear  madam,  The  event 
made  known  to  me  by  Mr..R 's  letter,  though  mel- 
ancholy, was  by  no  means  unexpected.     In  general,  I 


1801— 1813.J        LETTERS.  383 

am  reluctant  to  intrude  on  mourners  during  the  first  pa- 
roxysms of  grief :  but  I  feel  such  a  special  intererst  in 
you,  and  all  your  concerns,  that  I  cannot  delay  to  express 
how  sincerely  I  sympathise  with  you.  I  know  you  must 
grieve,  both  for  your  own  heavy  loss,  and  for  that  of  your 
dear  children,  and  of  many  others.  I  would  only  wish 
to  drop  a  hint  or  two  towards  alleviating  and  regulating 
your  sorrows,  that  you  may  not  grieve^  as  one  without 
hope^  for  him  who,  I  trust,  sleeps  in  Jesus. — ^While  the 
excellency  of  the  husband  and  father,  of  whom  you  and 
your  children  have  been  bereaved,  enhances  the  great- 
ness of  your  loss,  it  infuses  the  sweetest  ingredients  into 
the  bitter  cup.  You  have  no  call  to  lament,  as  David 
over  wicked  Absalom,  and  many  a  parent,  or  wife,  or 
child,  over  one,  concerning  whom  there  is  no  hope^  or 
scarcely  any,  as  to  the  infinite  concerns  of  eternity. 
You  have  ground  for  rejoicing  amidst  your  tears  :  your 
loss  is  the  immense  gain  of  him,  whom  you  most  love :  and 
surely,  would  a  wish  or  a  prayer  do  it,  you  would  not 
bring  him  back  into  this  sorrowful  world — especially  in 
the  afilicted  state,  in  which  he  had  long  continued. — You 
will  meet  again,  to  part  no  more  :  and  many  blessings 
are  in  store  for  you  and  your's,  in  answer  to  the  prayers 
ne  had  long  offered  for  you. 

"  Your  dearest  earthly  friend  is  taken  away  :  but  the 
Lord  liveth  from  everlasting  to  everlasting.  The  event, 
which  you  must  deplore,  (nature  dictates,  and  reason  and 
revelation  sanction  your  doing  so,)  is,  beyond  all  doubt, 
the  result  of  wise  love  to  you,  as  certainly  as  Joseph's 
being  sold  into  Egypt  was  the  result  of  wise  love  to  Jacob 
and  his  family.  What  I  do  thou  knowest  not  now  ;  but 
thou  shalt  know  hereafter, — I  am  of  opinion  that,  if  the 
greatest  sufferer,  among  those  who  have  been  eventually 
saved,  could  have  known  all  the  good  effects  of  his  suffer- 


384  Lin-TEUS.  [Chap.  XIV. 

ings,  to  himself  and  others,  and  the  glory  redounding  to 
God  hy  means  of  them  ;  he  would  have  willingly  and 
thankfully  received  his  bitterest  cup ; — even  as  Jesus, 
for  the  joy  that  icas  set  before  hiin,  endured  the  eross.  I 
can  conceive  ofBartimeus,  in  heaven,  hkssing  God  for 
his  blindness ;  Martha  and  Mary,  for  the  death  of  Laza- 
rus :  Lazarus,  for  being  called  to  pass  through  death 
twice  :  and  why  should  you  not  have  to  bless  God  for  this 
present  painful  dispensation  ?  JVe  know  that  all  things 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God. — Your 
good  sense,  and  your  acquaintance  with  the  scriptures, 
cannot  fail  of  suggesting  to  you,  that  indulging  griefs 
however  admired  in  the  world,  is,  in  itself,  as  wrong  as 
indulging  anger,  or  any  other  passion.  •  You  cannot  but 
grieve  enough,  \\\i\\o\\.t feeding  what  should  be  counter- 
acted. IVJiile  the  ehild  livedo  I  fasted  and  wept^  &c. 
2  Samuel  xii.  19 — 23. — The  will  of  God  is  now  known: 
though  painful,  you  must  feel  it  riglit  to  submit,  and  to 
say,  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away  ; 
blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord :  and,  however  great  the 
loss,  the  all-sufficient  God  can  make  it  up. 

"  I  am'^far  from  regretting,  or  thinking  it  an  addition 
to  your  sorrow,  that  you  are  left  with  seven  children. 
Under  God,  they  will  be  an  alleviation  of  it.  Leave  thy 
fatherless  e/u'ldren  with  me,  I  will  preserve  them  alive  ; 
and  let  thy  widows  trust  in  me, — My  dear  friend,  a  most 
importJUit  duty,  now  more  important  than  ever,  devolves 
upon  you  ;  I  am  fully  persuaded,  from  your  past  conduct, 
a  duty  delightful  to  you  in  itself.  Now,  indeed,  for  a 
time  the  delight  will  be  mingled  with  tears  ;  but  the  im- 
portance of  the  duty  is  proportionably  increased  :  and  I 
cannot  doubt,  that  the  sorrow  will  decrease,  and  the  joy 
increase,  as  you  proceed.  For  the  sake  of  your  dear 
children,  in  addition  to  higher  motives,  watch  and  pray 


1801 1813.]         LETTERS.  385 

against  excessive  sorrow^  and  against  aiiy  expressions  of 
it  by  solitude,  or  omitting  the  proper  care  of  your  health 
and  spirits  ;  which  might  unfit  you  for  your  charge. 
Think  thus  :  '  The  whole  devolves  now  on  me  :  let  me 
not  yield  to  heartless  despondency.  The  souls  of  my 
children,  and  children's  children,  and  the  welfare  of  num- 
bers by  their  means,  are  now  at  stake.' 

"  Perhaps  I  have  entered  too  much  into  detail :  but 
I  write  as  to  one  of  my  own  children  ;  and  you  will  excuse 
me.  I  trust  many  here  are  praying  for  you  and  your's. 
I  cannot  but  hope,  that  there  are  far  more  than  a  hundred 
souls,  perhaps  two  or  three  hundred,  that  will  bless  God 
for  ever,  that  the  livinij^  of  Aston  ever  came  into  your 
family.     I  hope  many  pray  heartily  to  God  for  support, 

and  comfort,  and  every  blessing  on  you  and  your's 

May  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  be  your  sup- 
port and  comforter,  and  bless  you  and  your  children  1— 
Your's  sincerely,  T.  Scott." 

It  is  an  additional  delightful  consideration  to  me,  to 
think  how  much  the  good  anticipations  of  this  letter  have 
been  already  realized. 

IV.  Miscellaneous. 

"  January  11,  1807.  I  know  not  how  you  have  found 
it,  but  in  many  instances  I  have  observed,  that  things, 
which  at  the  moment  seemed  so  pertinent  and  conclusive, 
that  they  ought  to  be  said,  have  afterwards  appeared  to 
me  far  too  sharp,  and  had  better  have  been  withheld.  I 
now  never  write  on  any  thing  which  involves  dispute, 
(if  I  can  help  it,)  without  laying  the  letter  by  a  day  or 
two,  and  then  revising  it." 

"  April  14,  1811.     I  like  much  Mr. 's  sermon 

on :  but  nothing  of  defect  is  admitted  :  it  is  too 

unqualified  praise  :  it  tends  to  make  me  despond ;  and  it 
led  me  to  say,  Some  persons  will  ere  long  tell  lies  about 

3  C 


386  LETTEKS,  [CUAP.  XIV. 

me  also.  I  admire  Mr.  Milners  plan  about  Mr.  How- 
ard :  state  debtor  and  creditor.  If  we  have  any  thing 
good  about  us,  there  is  a  set  off;  and  it  is  best  that  it 
should  be  in  some  measure  stated." 

I  must  confess,  that  the  rule  laid  down,  in  the  closing 
sentence,  unless  ils  restriction  be  pretty  strongly  taken, 
appears  to  me,  to  impose  rather  an  awkward  task  on  the 
preacher  of  a  funeral  sermon.  To  go  much  beyond  a 
gentral  acknowledgement  of  the  imperfection  incident  to 
human  nature,  except  in  some  very  particular  instances, 
would  seem  to  be  ungracious  and  unseasonable  on  such  an 
occasion :  and  1  have  sometimes  doubted  whetlier  scrip- 
tural usage  requires  more.  In  giving  the  history^  in 
writing  the  lives  of  good  men,  scripture  certainly  relates 
the  faulty  as  well  as  the  praise  worthy  parts  of  their  con- 
duct. Yet,  in  summing  up  the  cliaravters  of  upright  men, 
even  such  as  had  been  chargeable  with  considerable  evils, 
it  is  remarkable  how  much  it  assumes  the  language  of 
general  approbation  and  praise.  And  it  may  be  thought, 
perhaps,  that  this  comes  nearer  to  the  case  of  a  funeral 
sermon,  in  all  such  instances  as  are  proper  for  sermons  of 
that  kind. 

The  following  brief  observations  on  books  may  not  be 
without  their  use. 

"  December  2,  1804.  By  the  way,  Robertson's  The- 
saurus is  a  most  valuable  repository  of  critical  and  theolo- 
gical matter,  to  the  patient  inquirer ;  bringing  together, 
in  one  view,  every  passage  where  the  word  in  question  is 
used,  and  quoting  the  best  criticisms  upon  it.'' 

"  April  7,  1808.  I  have  got  Grave's  Lectures  on  the 
Pentateuch,  and,  as  far  as  I  have  read,  am  much  pleased. 
I  find  original  remarks ;  and  this  is  what  I  want.  I  am 
sorry  to  perceive  him  so  unacquainted  with  evangelical 
truth. — Macknight  on  the  Epistles  is  not  of  great  use. 


1801—1813.]  LETTERS.  387 

He  is  a  verbose  and  round-about  writer.  I  find  in  him 
also  things  original :  that  is,  he  seems  to  have  known  all 
that  the  apostle,  and  his  friends,  and  his  enemies,  said 
and  did  ;  when  there  is  not  a  word  on  record.  He  is  wise 
above  what  is  written^  in  the  strangest  and  most  positive 
manner  I  have  ever  seen  ;  and  on  these  airy  dreams  builds 
systematical  expositions  quite  new  to  me.'' 

In  a  letter  of  June  3,  1807,  authorizing  me  to  sub- 
scribe for  him  towards  defraying  the  expence  of  Mr. 
Wilberforce's  election,  in  the  great  contest  for  Yorkshire, 
(though  he  had  for  some  time  demurred  whether,  in  the 
peculiar  situation  in  which  he  stood,  it  would  be  proper  for 
him  to  do  it,)  he  says :  "  In  every  company,  I  maintain 
the  propriety  of  Mr.  W.'s  standing  the  contest,  and  of 
others  coming  forward  to  defray  the  expence.  If  this  be 
not  done,  the  independence  of  a  large  county  is,  by  the 
very  circumstance  of  its  largeness,  as  effectually  given  up, 
that  of  a  rotten  borough.  But  the  cause  of  Mr.  W.  is 
the  cause  of  justice,  humanity,  and  piety,  as  well  as  of 
Britain.  I  feel  a  sort  of  self-congratulation  at  present, 
that,    above    twenty   years   ago,    I   withstood,  with  all 

my  energy  Mr.  's  counsel,  who  advised  Mr.  W.  to 

retire  from  public  life.  Had  that  counsel  been  followed, 
the  slave  trade  might  have  been  continued  to  future  ge- 
nerations.'^ 

January  20,  1812,  he  thus  speaks  of  his  own  memoir  of 
himself.  "  I  am  now,  as  able,  employed  in  drawing  up 
a  brief  account  of  the  former  years  of  my  life,  which,  for 
the  time,  a  good  deal  affects  me  with  the  sense  of  the 
Lord's  goodness,  in  leading  me  when  blind,  and  most 
wicked,  by  a  way  that  I  knew  not.  I  have  written  about 
two  slieets,  and  am  come  to  the  eve  of  my  ordination :  after 
which  I  shall  be  very  brief.  I  shall  leave  it  with  my  sur- 
vivors, to  be  employed  as  they  see  good." 


388 


FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,   [ChAF.  X\^ 


CHAPTER  XV. 


FROM  THE  FINAL  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  COMMENTARY   TO  HIS 

LAST  ILLNESS. 

When  my  father  contracted  with  the  present  proprie- 
tors of  his  Commentary,  to  sell  them  all  the  remaining  co- 
pies, and  to  convey  to  them  the  copy-right  of  the  work, 
it  was  in  the  full  expectation  that  he  should  be  enabled  to 
pay  off  the  debts  which  he  had  incurred,  and  to  disen- 
cumber himself  of  the  embarrassments,  under  which  he 
had  so  long  laboured,  on  account  of  his  publications. 
Thus  he  expressed  himself  in  announcing  the  event :  ^'I 
have  been  struggling  hard  for  many  years,  and  have  novr 
brought  matters  to  that  state,  that  I  can  dispose  of  the 
whole.  What  I  am  to  receive,  with  what  my  bookseller 
will  owe  me,  will  nearly  cover  all  my  debts  :  and  it  is 
high  time,  that,  on  the  one  hand,  my  borrowed  money 
should  be  paid  off,  and,  on  the  other,  that  I  should  dis- 
embarrass myself  of  worldly  cares,  and  set  my  house  in 
order,  that  1  may  be  ready  when  my  summons  comes." 
And,  though  some  delays  and  disappointments  took  place, 
he  continued  to  entertain  this  expectation,  and  even  to 
hope  tliat  he  should  be  found  possessed  of  some  moderate 
portion  of  property,  till  the  latter  end  of  the  year  1813. 
But.  at  that  periods  on  winding  up  his  account  with  his 
bookseller  and  others,  he  found,  to  his  utter  astonishment, 
and  with  a  greater  degree  of  disquietude,  than  he  had, 


1813 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  389 

perhaps,  ever  before  felt  on  such  a  subject^  that  he  was 
still  deficient  more  than  1200/.  which  he  had  little  else 
to  defray,  than  printed  paper,  which  appeared  almost  un- 
saleable. This  was  principally  owing  to  great  quantities 
of  his  books,  especially  the  works  in  five  volumes,  being 
now  discovered  in  the  printer's  warehouses^  and  brought 
to  account,  which  were  before  considened  as  sold.  He 
mentions  in  a  letter  that  eight  hundred  and  six  volumes 
were  thus  brought  forward  in  one  article.  This  was  not 
only  a  grievous  disappointment,  as  presenting  him  with 
apparently  useless  paper,  instead  of  ready  money,  but  as 
it,  in  great  measure,  frustrated  his  hopes  for  the  future. 
He  had  calculated  that  his  minor  works  were  selling  to 
the  amount  of  250/.  or  300/.  annually ;  but  it  now  ap- 
peared that  the  sale  was  not  exceeding  100/.  a  year  ; 
which  made  a  material  difference  in  the  prospect  before 
him. 

This  discovery  exceedingly  disconcerted  and  distress- 
ed him,  especially  as  he  charged  himself  with  actual, 
though  unconscious  injustice,  in  disposing,  in  various 
ways,  on  the  ground  of  the  erroneous  calculation  of  his 
property,  of  sums,  which  now  turned  out  not  to  be  his 
own  :  and,  amidst  increasing  infirmities  and  disabilities, 
he  began  to  forebode  dying  insolvent,  and  thus,  perhaps, 
leaving  a  stigma,  upon  his  character  and  profession. 

Under  these  painful  impressions  he  wrote  to  the  differ- 
ent branches  of  his  family  in  November  ]8i3.  "  I  sit 
down,  to  write  to  you  on  a  painful  subject,  and,  perhaps, 
with  a  heavier  heart  than  I  ever  did  before.'^  '*  To  my 
utter  astonishment  and  overwhelming  almost,  I  find  that 

I  am  above  350/.  minus  with ,''  instead  of  having 

some  hundred  pounds  to  receive  !  '*  Under  wrong  ideas 
of  being  able  to  afford  it,  I  have  been  disposing  of  money, 
which  now,  to  my  great  distress,  I  find  was  not  my  own.'' 


390  FROM  TMK   DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE.    [ChAP.  XV. 

"  But  the  most  distressing  fact  is  this,  that  scarcely  any 
thingof  my  printed  pa  jK-r  sells ;  and,  as  my  whole  property, 
except  my  furniture,  consists  of  it,  I  find  myself  precluded 
from  paying  my  debts,  unless  some  other  methods  can  be 
adopted." — And  again,  ^^  My  state  of  health  also,  and 
the  improbability  of  my  teaching  the  missionaries  much 
longer,  or  doing  without  a  curate,  compared  with  the 
scantiness  of  my  income,  apart  from  my  debts,  is  trying 
to  faith  and  patience  ;  especially  as,  I  believe,  my  friends 
in  general  think  me  well  provided  for,  and  therefore  give 
me  no  help."  "  Except  I  can  look  to  God,  my  prospect 
is  dreary  :  my  infirm  health  also  concurs  in  depressing  my 
spirits. — But,  though  sometimes  disheartened,  I  rise 
again  above  it."  ^ 

It  may  be  observed  that  the  letters,  from  which  these 
extracts  are  taken,  were  written  only  two  days  previous- 
ly to  the  very  striking  one,  formerly  given,  on  the  in- 
struction of  the  missionaries.  They  sufficiently  explain 
the  "  strong  reason"  he  had  "  for  not  at  present  giving 
up  that  service,  if  he  could  help  it :"  though,  it  will  be 
remembered,  he  adds,  "  If  however  a  permanent  semi- 
nary can  be  founded,  I  shall  not  suffer  any  personal  con- 
cern of  mine  to  interfere,  and,  indeed,  shall  greatly  re- 
joice in  it." 

I  have  put  the  reader  in  possession  of  this  whole  case, 
though  it  is  rather  painful  to  detail  it,  because,  taken  in 
connexion  with  its  issue,  have  thought  it  due  to  those, 
who  would  endeavour  to  act  upon  my  father's  disinter- 
ested and  devoted  principles,  to  do  so  :  due  also  to  the 
religious  public,  and  to  several  zealous,  though  some  of 
them  unknown  friends,  who  took  the  most  lively  inter- 
est in  his  circumstances,  as  soon  as  they  became  acquaint- 
ed witli  them  :  and  due,  I  must  add.  to  the  estimation 
in  which,  far  beyond  his  own  apprehensions,  he  appear- 


1813 — 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  391 

ed  to  be  held,  "  for  bis  work's  sake,"  and  for  tTie  man- 
ner in  whieb  be  bad  unreservedly  given  bimself  to  it. 

In  these  letters  my  father  bad  observed,  that  be  thought 
he  bad  "  some  claim  upon  the  religious  public  ;"  and 
the  way  in  which  he  proposed  to  avail  himself  of  it  was, 
merely  soliciting  his  friends,  by  a  private  circular,  to  find 
him  purchasers  for  his  "  Theological  Works,"  which  he 
was  willing,  in  this  way,  to  dispose  of  at  a  reduced  price. 
*'  Could  I  turn  three  or  four  hundred  copies  of  the  Works 
into  money,"  he  says,  "  it  would  set  me  at  liberty." 
This  was  accordingly  the  plan  adopted.  The  printing 
of  this  collection  of  his  works,  he  considered  as  "  the 
most  imprudent  part  of  his  whole  concern  in  that  line," 
and  as  having  "  involved  him  almost  inextricably  :"  but 
it  now  proved  the  means  of  relieving  him  effectually,  and 
beyond  his  most  sanguine  expectations. 

The  first  person  to  whom  his  difficulties,  and  his  proposed 
means  of  extricating  himself  were  made  known,  was  the 
Rev.  Charles  Simeon,  of  King's  College,  Cambridge  : 
and  such  were  the  prompt  and  vigorous  exertions  of  that 
zealous  friend,  and  excellent  man,  that,  had  they  been 
immediately  known  to  my  father,  they  might  probably 
have  prevented  his  issuing  his  circulars  in  any  other 
quarter.  On  Monday,  December  20,  at  a  time  when 
his  spirits  were  sunk  unusually  low,  he  received  from 
Mr.  S.  a  letter,  of  which  I  shall  take  the  liberty  of  com- 
municating such  part  as  is  in  my  possession. 

"  My  dear  friend.  Never  was  a  more  deligbtftd  office 
committed  to  me,  than  that  which  I  have  to  execute  at 
this  time.  Your  visit  to  Cambridge  was  a  blessing  to 
many,  who  are  anxious  to  testify  towards  you  their  respect 
and  love,  and  who  earnestly  request  your  acceptance  of 
a  few  hundred  pounds,  which  they  have  desired  me  to 
remit  you  in  their  name,  and  in  the  name  of  some  others 


392  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE.  [ChAP.  XV. 

who  have  been  benefited  by  your  writings.  The  amount 
I  have  eoinprehended  in  a  bill,  <fec.  &c.  Greatly  rejoic- 
ing in  an  event  so  expressive  of  their  love  to  Christ,  and 
the  veneration  they  icel  for  your  character,  I  am  most 
affectionately  yours.  C.  Simeon. 

The  remittance  comprehended  "  5901.  a  present, 
besides  a  considerable  sum  for  books!'' 

Another  near  friend,  who  was  on  the  spot  at  the  time 
says,  "  The  interest  taken  in  his  concerns  by  our  Cam- 
bridge friends,  and  the  delicacy,  and  affection  with  which 
the  whole  business  was  conducted,  will  never  be  forgot- 
ten by  me." 

But  it  was  not  only  at  Cambridge  that  the  intimation, 
that  my  father  stood  in  need  of  some  assistance,  was  met 
by  so  prompt  a  disposition  to  afford  it :  the  same  was  the 
case  in  various  other  places,  in  some  of  which  he  was 
personally  unknown.  Bristol,  York,  and  Dublin,  de- 
serve particularly  to  be  specified  :  and  in  the  first  of  these 
citir'sit  is  no  more  than  is  due  to  mention  the  name  of  Isaac 
Cooke,  Esq.  The  munificient  friend  of  Mr.  Cecil  shew- 
ed himself  the  no  less  munificent  friend  of  Mr.  Scott, 
when  the  occasion  called  for  it,  though  the  latter  had^^  but 
the  slightest  acquaintance  with  him.'' 

But  what  was  done  on  this  occasion,  and  in  what  manner 
it  was  received,  will  be  best  learned  from  a  few  extracts 
of  my  father's  letters,  written  at  the  time. 

To  myself  he  wrote,  Dec.  22,  1813 :  "  You  will 
doubtless  be  astonished  at  the  contents  of  this  letter.  The 

letter  which!  wrote  to  Mr. ,  for  Mr.  Simeon  to  see, 

from  some  circumstances  seemed  likely  to  produce  me  a 

few  subscribers  ;  and  I  expected  little  more Had 

I  received  Mr.  S.'s  letter  before  I  began  issuing  my 
circulars,  1  should  have  paused  ;  but  many  were  previ- 
ouslvsent.     1  had  only  one  hundred  printed I  was 


1813 1821.]        TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  393 

low  last  week  ;  but  not  so  much  about  my  affairs,  as  that 

I  had  written  so  fully  to ,  who^  I  thought,  would 

much  censure  me  ;  and  because  I  could  not,  on  a  review 
of  many  past  years,  but  deeply  condemn  many  things 
in  myself.  And,  when  I  received  Mr.  Simeon's  letter, 
and  the  bill  for  so  large  a  sum,  I  was  at  first  so  over- 
whelmed with  shame  at  my  own  unbelief  and  distrust,  that 
I  felt  lower  than  ever.  But  I  hope  the  Lord's  goodness, 
and  the  kindness  of  unexpected  friends,  will  shame  us 
bothy  and  all,  out  of  distrust  and  unbelief.  I  have  not 
been  '  too  disinterested,'  &c.'^ 

To  his  second  son,  January  17,  1814  :  ^'  I  have  receiv- 
ed  in  all  from  different  quarters,  and  from  those  of  whom 
I  had  never  heard  the  name  ....  quite  enough  to  pay 
all  my  debts  ;  and,  as  I  have  reason  to  think,  that  most, 
if  not  all,  the  copies  of  the  works  will  be  disposed  of,  I 
now  have  all  and  abound ;  except  that  I  want  more 
thankfulness  to  God  and  man.  I  have  even  declined 
some  oiTers  made  me I  hope  mine  will  be  con- 
sidered as  an  adjudged  case,  to  encourage  faith  in  God's 
providence,  in  those  who  are  employed  in  his  work." 

To  myself,  again,  February  14,  1814  :  "1  really  ex- 
pected, at  first,  little  more  than  to  dispose  of  two  or 
three  hundred  copies  of  the  works,  and  never  intimated 
a  desire  of  further  help  than  in  that  way.     You  have 

heard  what  I  received  from  Mr.    S Since  then, 

money  has  been  sent  me,  with  the  most  cordial  respectful 
letters,  from  persons  of  whom  I  never  heard  :  among  the 
rest,  20/.  from  a  quaker.  Offers  were  made  of  raising 
more,  if  I  desired  it :  which  I  declined.  Probably  all 
the  copies  of  the  works  will  be  sold.  I  do  not  now  owe 
any  thing  which  I  cannot  pay  on  demand — what  I  never 
could  say  since  you  were  born !  and  I  have  something 
in  hand,  and  shall  receive  more,  besides  the  works.  So 

3D 


J94  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  Ol'  HIS  BlRl.K,  [ChAP.   XV. 

you  see  that,  if  I  have  too  little  regarded  such  matters  while 
my  need  was  not  urgent,  when  it  is  how  easily  the  Lord 
can  do  more  for  me,  than  all  my  plans  could  have  done 
in  a  course  of  years ;  than  in  a  manner  which  tends  to 
make  my  puhlications  more  known  and  circulated  ;  and, 
I  verily  helieve,  without  in  any  degree  deducting  froni 
my  character.  Oh  that  this  may  make  me  ashamed  of 
all  my  distrust  and  dejection  !  and  that  it  may  encourage 
you,  and  many  others,  to  go  on  in  the  work  of  the  Lord, 
without  anxiety  on  this  ground  !  Serve  him,  by  the  dayy 
and  trust  him  by  the  day  :  never  flinch  a  service  he- 
cause  nothing  is  paid  for  it :  and  when  you  want  it  in 
reality,  you  or  yours,  he  will  pay  it.  David  Brown  did 
much  gratis  in  India  :  the  East  India  Company  raised  a 
monument  for  the  old  batchclor  Swartz  :  but  they  made 
provision  for  Mr.  B's.  large  family  !  .  .  .  . 

"  Among  other  things,  I  received  a  most  friendly  let- 
ter from  Mr.  Ricliardson,  inquiring  into  my  circum- 
stances, of  which  friends  at  York  had  received  some  re- 
port. I  stated,  that  I  had,  all  and  abounded^  and  did  not 
wish  to  trouble  my  friends  further,  except  as  subscribers 
to  the  works.  But  I,  next  letter,  received  1 15/.  as  a 
present ! — I  have  had  350/.  fi  om  Bristol,  where  I  thought 
my  rudeness  had  given  olfence  ;  besides  orders  for  a  hun- 
dred copies  of  the  works  V^ 

Another  letter  to  my  brother,  ten  days  afterwards, 
states  that  Mr.  Cooke  had  remitted  200/.  more  from  Bris- 
tol !  and  my  lather  adds  in  a  postscript, 

^^  February  25,  1814.  I  have  received  at  least  2000/. 
as  presents  in  little  more  than  two  months,  besides  the 
sale  of  books  !  !  You  see  how  easily  God  can  provide. 
Trust  in  the  Lord,  and  do  good ;  dwellin  the  land,  and 
verily  thou  shall  brftd.  You  cannot  do  a  better  service 
to  the  world,  than  by  bequeathing  to  it  a  iv ell- educated 


1813 1821.]        TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  395 

family.     Let   this  be  your  care,  the  rest  will  be  the 
Lord's." 

The  letter,  above  referred  to,  to  the  late  Mr,  Richard- 
son is  now  before  me.  It  adds  nothing,  in  point  of  in- 
formation, to  the  facts  already  stated  :  yet  it  will  fiiraish 
an  extract  or  two,  which  will  not  be  uninteresting.  It  is 
dated  January  14, 1814,  and  begins  as  follows  : — "  Your 
very  friendly  and  pleasing  letter  found  me  ill  in  bed,  of 
a  fever,  occasioned,  I  believe,  by  the  severity  of  the  wea- 
ther. It  has  confined  me  a  week  to  my  room,  and  most 
of  the  time  to  my  bed ;  but  is,  through  the  mercy  of  our 
God,  now  gone  off;  though  it  leaves  me  extremely  weak. 
This  has  no  connexion  with  my  local  malady,  which  does 
not,  at  present,  affect  my  general  health,  nor  greatly  in- 
terrupt my  labours  at  home,  though  it  makes  them  much 
more  uneasy  and  wearying.  It  seems  at  a  stand  :  but 
cure  must  not  be  expected. .  . . 

>*  It  is  not  agreeable  to  our  proud  hearts  to  become,  in 
any  way  or  manner,  beggars  :  but  my  relief  has  been  sent 
on  such  a  general  hint,  and  with  such  soothing  tokens  of 
respect  and  affection,  as  more  than  compensate  all  :  and 
I  only  want,  to  crown  the  whole,  a  heart  deeply  and 
humbly  thankful  to  God,  and  to  those  into  whose  hearts 
he  has  put  it  thus  to  help  me. . .  . 

"  Next  month  I  enter  my  sixty-eighth  year :  but  I 
have  always  had  a  bad  constitution,  and  seldom  a  year 
without  fevers,  (often  dangerous  ;)  besides  asthma  and 
other  complaints  :  so  that  I  am  a  wonder  to  myself. — Suf- 
fering and  weariness  must  be  my  portion  here :  but  I  hope 
that  my  strength  will  be  equal  to  my  day,  my  consolation 
to  my  tribulation.  We  shall  not  meet  on  earth  :  but  it 
will  not  be  long,  I  trust,  before  we  meet  in  heaven  ;  and 
then,/ttce  to  face,  and  not  by  pen  and  ink,  I  will  speak 


396 


FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLL^    [ChAP.    XV". 


tinth  thee.*  In  the  mean  time,  let  us  pray  for  each  other; 
let  us  enter  into  the  spirit  of  my  new  year's  text,  Eccles. 
ix.  10,  Whatsoever  tJty  hand,  <J'r.  ;  and  let  us  hless  God, 
that  we  leave  the  state  of  religion  in  Britian,  and  on  earth, 
more  promising  than  we  found  it.  Praying  that  this  dawn 
may  shine  more  and  more  until  the  glorious  day  of  the 
millennium;  I  am  your  faithful  friend  and  brother, 

Thos.  Scott." 

We  now  proceed  to  detail  the  history  of  the  remaining^ 
years  of  my  father's  labours.  They  will  be  found,  per- 
haps, more  bare  of  incident  than  those  which  preceded 
them.  He  was  during  the  whole  term  a  prisoner  in  the 
immediate  neighbourhood  of  his  home,  and  almost  entirely 
Tvithin  his  own  village.  The  main  point,  in  addition  to 
giving  an  account  of  the  productions  of  his  pen,  will  be 
to  display  the  temper  of  his  mind,  and  the  spirit  by  which 
he  was  actuated  ;  which  acquire  an  increasing  interest  as 
we  approach  his  latter  end,  and  see  them  still  sustained, 
or  rather  raised  yet  higher,  amidst  daily  accumulating 
infirmities. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  year  1814,  we  find  him  turn- 
ing his  attention,  and  with  all  his  wonted  vigour,  to  a 
subject  which  was,  in  a  great  measure,  new  to  him,  the 
question  between  Jews  and  Christians.  This  was  in  con- 
sequence, as  he  tells  us  in  the  preface  to  the  work  which 
he  afterwards  published  uponit,  of  acopyof  RabbiCrool's 
''  Restoration  of  Israel,"  being  forwarded  to  him  by  the 
Committee  of  the  Society  for  promoting  Christianity 
among  the  Jews,  "  with  a  request  that  he  would  answer 
it."  He  understood  ''  the  same  to  have  been  done  to  a 
few  other  persons :"  and,   '^  being  fully  engaged  at  the 

*  Mr.  Richardson  died  one  month  after  my  father. 


1815 — 1821.]       TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.     -  397 

time/'  he,  after  looking  slightly  into  the  book,  laid  it 
aside,  feeling  "  not  at  all  inclined  to  undertake  the  ser- 
vice.'' ''  But  being  somewhat  less  engaged,  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  following  year/'  (1814)  he  again  took  up 
the  copy  and  read  it  more  attentively  ;  purposing,  if  not 
too  late,  to  make  some  short  remarks  on  particular  pas- 
sages, and  communicate  them  to  any  one,  wiio,  he  should 
learn,  was  preparing  an  answer.  In  attempting  this, 
however,  the  whole  concern  appeared  to  him  in  a  new 
light;  and  he  perceived,  that,  by  this  work  an  opening 
was  giving  to  the  zealous  friends  of  Christianity,  and  cor- 
dial friends  of  the  Jews,  to  bring  the  whole  subject  in 
controversy,  between  Christians  and  Jews,  before  the 
public  and  the  nation  of  Israel.  The  consequence  was 
the  production,  w^ithin  the  year,  of  an  octavo  volume, 
containing  Crooll's  work,  and  an  answer  to  it,  in  which  all 
the  principal  points  at  issue  are  discussed. 

Some  observations  relative  to  this  work  may  deserve 
to  be  extracted  from  his  correspondence  while  employed 
upon  it. 

"  February  14,  1814.  I  am  deeply  engaged  in  the 
controversy  between  Jews  and  Christians,  and  in  answer- 
ing a  book  by  R.  Crooll^  Hebrew  teacher  at  Cambridge. 
It  is  my  object  to  draw  forth  the  Jews  from  their  lurking 
holes  to  fair  argument :  and  I  mean  to  discuss  every  im- 
portant question  concerning  the  Messiah  of  the  Old  Testa. 
ment,  on  the  ground  of  the  Old  Testament  only.  I  think 
shall  bring  forth  much  original  matter  on  many  topics. 
I  shall  at  least  furnish  materials  to  future  workmen. — I 
have  in  contemplation  also  to  condense  the  remarks  on  the 
"  Refutation  of  Calvinism"  into  one  volume,  stating  the 
argument  briefly,  without  extraneous  matter." 

This  was  at  a  time  when  he  had  been  confined  '^  five 
Sundays  from  church,  three  by  sickness,  and  two  by  the 


398  FROM  THK  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,   [ChAP.  XV. 

weather.'"     ^^  Nothing  like  this  winter,"   he  remarks, 
'^  has  occurred  for  ahnost  fifty  years.'' 

April  7,  he  writes,  *'  1  think  I  know  the  general  plan 
or  idea  of  Limborch,  respecting  the  Jews — that  the  more 
oll'cnsive  peculiaries  of  Christianity  are  to  be  kept  out  of 
sight :  and  the  grand  question,  of  Jesus  being  the  Messiah, 
first  considered.  I  thought  sooicwhat  in  the  same  way 
once  :  but  the  peculiarities  of  Christianity  are  evidently 
the  grand  objections  of  modern  Jews.  Their  Socinian- 
ism^  so  to  speak,  is  prominent  in  all  their  objections ; 
and  it  is  vain  to  discuss  previous  questions  :  the  whole 
must  be  proved  from  the  Old  Testament,  or  nothing  is 
done.  But  they  are  so  uninformed,  that  every  argument 
or  statement  will  be  new  to  them,  if  it  be  possible  to  get 
them  to  read,  and  consider,  and  try  to  answer.  This  I 
I  am  attempting,  with  all  the  gentleness  and  benevolence 
I  can  :  and  I  get  new  light  myself,  on  every  topic." 

•'  June  27,  1814.  1  have  completed,  nearly  ready  for 
the  press,  my  book  respecting  the  Jews.  It  must  be  ori- 
ginal to  many  readers,  for  a  great  part  of  it  is  so  to  me  : 
and  I  have,  in  many  things,  almost  new  views  of  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Old  Testament  in  these  respects. — The  con- 
trast between  the  triumphs  of  Jesus  and  those  of  Mo- 
hammed, is,  in  my  own  view,  very  striking. — I  should 
hope  the  whole  would  be  rather  conciliatory  to  the  Jews  : 
as  it  ascribes  to  them  a  precedency  of  honour  and  love,  at 
their  restoration,  beyond  what  has  been  hitherto  brought 
forward." 

Though,  however,  this  work,  certainly  one  of  no  little 
labour  and  thought,  was  thus  nearly  completed  by  the 
middle  of  the  year  in  which  it  was  begun,  the  prelace  is 
not  dated  till  October  ;  and,  owing  to  delays  after  the  ma- 
nuscript had  left  the  author's  hand,  it  was  not  published 
till  near  Midsiimmer  in  tlie  ensuing  year. 


1813 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  399 

At  this  period  I  find  the  following  brief  notice  of  his 
state  in  a  letter  from  his  daughter,  then  settled  in  his 
immediate  neighbourhood. 

"  June  3j  1814.  It  is  indeed  a  source  of  unspeakable 
satisfaction  to  us,  that  we  are  situated  so  near  my  dear 
father,  and  can  have  so  frequently  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
and  hearing  him.  May  we  but  derive  all  the  advantage 
which  his  instructions  and  example  are  so  calculated  to 
afford  !  The  calmness  and  cheerfulness,  with  which  he 
supports  the  almost  constant  pain  and  weariness  he  suf- 
fers, are  truly  edifying ;  and  the  vigour  and  activity  of 
his  mind  render  his  conversation  as  interesting  as  ever  it 
was." 

This  year  was  marked  by  the  fall  of  Bonaparte,  and 
the  restoration  of  peace  with  France.  The  general  joy 
and  exultation  were,  however,  most  painfully  damped,  in 
the  breasts  of  all  the  zealous  friends  of  humanity  and  of 
mankind,  by  that  clause  in  the  treaty  of  peace  which  sanc- 
tioned the  continuance,  or  rather  the  revival,  of  the  Af- 
rican Slave  Trade,  for  the  period  of  fiv^  years ;  at  the 
same  time  that  it  pronounced  it  a  traffic  ''  repugnant  to 
the  principles  of  natural  justice."  Along  with  others, 
my  father,  for  a  time,  felt  his  full  share  of  disappoint- 
ment and  sadness  on  the  occasion.  This  continued  till 
the  very  day  of  the  General  Thanksgiving,  (July  7,)  when 
it  found  a  degree  of  unexpected  relief.  He  thus  de- 
scribes his  feelings  in  the  preface  to  the  sermon  which  he 
preached,  and  published  under  the  title  of  '  Light  Shin- 
ing out  of  Darkness  ;'  "  I  entered  on  the  preparation  for 
the  day  with  unusual  dejection,  as  consciously  unable  to 
meet  the  case  with  adequate  encouragements  to  others,  or 
myself  to  emerge  out  of  most  disheartening  regret :  so  that  1 
looked  forward  to  the  service  with  very  painful  anticipa- 
tions. But,  while  thus  meditating  on  the  subject,  brighter 


400  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,    [ChAP.  XV. 

views  unexpectedly  arose  in  my  mind.  These  views  I 
endeavoured  to  set  before  my  congregation,  without  the 
most  remote  idea  of  publishing  them  :  yet,  on  subsequent 
reflection,  they  appeared  to  nie^  and  some  others,  so  new, 
and  so  animating,  on  a  most  gloomy  topic,  that  1  was  led 
to  print  them." 

It  happened  that,  before  I  received  any  intelligence  of 
this  sermon,  I  had  the  opportunity  of  ascertaining,  and 
communicating  to  my  father,  the  views  taken  of  the  same 
subject  by  the  late  excellent  Dr.  Buchanan.  He  too,  like 
one  well  practised  in  waiting  for  a  desired  object,  and  in 
regarding  apparent  disappointment  as  one  preparative  for 
its  accomplishment,  was  looking  for  "  light  out  of  dark- 
ness;'' and  the  sentiments  which  1  found  him  entertaining, 
remarkably  corresponded  with  those  at  which   my  father 
had  arrived.     From  what  quarter  ^Oight"'  was  to  break 
in  they  little  anticipated  :  and,  had  they  anticipated  it. 
that  too  would  have  been  a  source  of  further  alamn  and  dis 
tressing  feelings.     It  was  only  through  the  return  of  the 
despot,  who  had  so  long  made  Europe  to  tremble,  and  by 
means  of  the  fresh  negociations  which  followed  his  final 
expulsion,   that  "  the  high  contracting  powers,"  were 
brought  "  each  to  prohibit,  without  restriction,  their  co- 
lonies and  subjects  from  taking  any  part  whatever  in  this 
traffic."     Would  to  God  that  the  time  might  arrive,  when 
the  proscription  thus  announced  shall  actually  take  effect; 
and  when  cupidity  on  the  one  hand,  and  lukewarmness 
on  the  other,  shall  no  longer  set  at  nought  the  claims  of 
humanity,  and  the  injunctions  of  our  holy  religion  ;  and 
conspire  to  frustrate  the  enactments  of  legislatures,  and 
the  solemn  covenants  of  nations  ! 

At  this  period  I  visited  Aston,  and,  in  returning,  saw 
the  other  branches  of  the  family.  On  my  letter  to  my  fa- 
ther, after  my  arrival  at  home,  he  remarks,  "  Your  lettei* 


1813 — 1821.]       TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  401 

gave  me  much  pleasure — which  I  do  not  very  generally 
experience,  for  want  of  a  right  state  of  heart.  Our  mer- 
cies and  blessings,  as  a  family,  and  as  individuals,  are 
great  and  many  :  but  o\xv  feelings  at  the  present,  either 
of  pain,  or  of  disappointment  in  smaller  concerns,  too 
often  render  us  forgetful  of  them." 

It  is  natural  that  a  closing  chapter,  in  the  history  of  a 
long  life,  should  have  to  report  the  deaths  of  not  a  few  of 
the  friends  of  him  who  is  the  subject  of  it  :  and,  alas ! 
events  of  this  kind  will  be  found  pretty  thickly  inter- 
spersed in  the  period  we  are  considering. 

In  October  of  this  year  my  father  lost  his  youngest  sister, 
Mrs.  Burgest,  of  Leicester,  and  to  her  daughter,  (herself 
since  deceased,)  whom  he  did  not  consider  as  at  that  time 
living  under  the  power  of  religion,  he  wrote  in  the  fol- 
lowing faithful  and  affectionate  manner,  when  she  an- 
nounced the  event  to  him. 

"  I  was  just  thinking  of  setting  apart  a  little  time  for 
answering  your  former  letter,  when  I  received  your  last, 
stating,  what  indeed  I  had  expected  to  hear,  the  decease 
of  your  dear  mother.  Thus  the  younger  is  first  removed  ! 
So  uncertain  is  life,  and  so  it  pleases  God  to  derange  all 
our  calculations,  even  as  to  the  probability  of  its  continu- 
ance !  My  brother,  who  is  thirteen,  and  my  sister,  who 
is  four  years  older  than  I  am,  and  I  myself,  still  survive ; 
and  your  mother,  who  was  nine  years  younger,  is  gone ! 
May  we  be  ready  also,  for  at  what  time  the  hour  cometh 
we  know  not,  and  cannot  know. 

"\  was  glad  to  hear  from  Mr.  V that  he  visited 

your  mother  in  her  illness ;  and  for  what  he  said  concern- 
ing the  state  of  her  mind.  As  for  me,  I  could  only  pray 
for  her ;  which  I  trust  I  did  heartily,  more  than  once 
every  day,  from  the  time  I  heard  of  her  sickness ;  and 

3  E 


402  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,   [ChAP.   XV. 

that  God  would  sanctify  the  afflictive  dispensation  for  good 
to  ail  the  lamily  ;  and  now  also,  that  God  may  be  your 
su])porter  and  comforter. — In  respect  of  yourself,  I  would 
remind  you  of  the  question  asked  by  the  Lord  in  Jere- 
miah, Wilt  thoti  not  from  this  time  cry  imto  me,  My 
Father,  be  thou  the  guide  of  my  youth?  (Jer.  iii.  4.) — 
It  would  not  be  seasonable  to  enter  into  particulars  on  this 
melancholy  occasion ;  lest  I  should  seem  to  speak  to  the 
grief  of  those  whom  God  hath  wounded.  But  you  must 
be  conscious,  that  a  radical  and  entire  change  is  needful, 
in  order  to  your  participating  tiie  joy  of  God's  salvation  ; 
at  least,  you  must  be  aware,  that  this  is  my  judgment, 
from  what  1  have  hitherto  observed  and  heard. 

"  Your  favoured  situation  at  Leicester,  and  the  oppor- 
tunities which  you  have  ibrmerly  had  of  hearing  my  dear 
departed  friend  and  brother  Mr.  Robinson,  whose  praise 
is  in  all  the  churches  ;  as  well  as  your  present  advantages  ; 
preclude  the  necessity  of  my  entering  into  particular,  as 
your  former  letter  seemed  to  intimate  a  desire  of  my  doing. 
But  if,  aware  of  that  plainness  of  speech  which  I  am  ac- 
customed to  use  on  such  infinitely  important  topics,  though, 
I  trust,  connected  with  tender  sympathy  and  affection, 
you  should  still  desire  me  to  write  to  you  on  the  subject, 
and  point  out  any  special  questions  on  which  you  wish  for 
my  opinion  ;  notwiihstanding  my  infirmities  and  engage- 
ments, I  will  endeavour  to  answer  you  :  and  if  any  book 
of  mine,  which  you  have  not,  would  be  acceptable  to  you 
or  your  father,  send  me  word  and  I  will  order  it. 

^'  But  I  believe  the  whole  in  your  case  may  nearly  be 
summed  up  in  the  exhortation,  to  listen  patiently  and  at- 
tentively to  your  own  conscience  ;  to  reverence  it ;  and 
to  remember  that,  by  acting  contrary  to  it  in  any  degree 
or  instance,  or  endeavouring  to  suppress  its  dictates,  you 
quench  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  provoke  him  to  leave  you. 


1813 — -1821.]        TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  403 

• — I  cannot  but  think,  you  know  enough  of  the  great  out- 
lines of  evangelical  religion,  and  are  so  far  convinced  of 
the  truth  of  it,  that,  in  following  the  dictates  of  your  con- 
science, you  would  be  led  to  separate  from  the  vanities 
of  a  vain  world  ;  to  repent  and  turn  to  God,  and  do  works 
meet  for  repentance  ;  to  come  to  Christ,  sit  at  his  feet 
with  Mary,  hear  his  word  with  obedient  faith,  and  make 
his  commandments  the  rule,  and  his  example  the  pattern, 
of  your  future  conduct.  This  alone  is  the  way  of  peace 
and  happiness :  this  alone  can  prepare  you  for  an  earUey 
death,  or  prove  the  way  for  comfort  in  declining  years, 
(should  you  live  to  that  time,)  under  the  infirmities  of  age, 
and  the  near  prospect  of  death.  All  else,  however  it  may 
glitter  in  youthful  and  worldly  eyes,  is  mere  tinspl ;  it  is 
vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit. 

"  I  have  informed  our  friends  as  you  desired. — The 
first  time  for  above  a  twelvemonth,  I  have  left  home,  and 
ridden  over  to  Stone,  where  your  cousin  King  lives,  about 

five  miles  from  Aston We  all  unite  in  condolence, 

and  kind  remembrance  to  your  father  and  the  rest  of  the 
family  ;  and  in  prayer  for  you  all.  I  remain,  your  affec* 
fionate  uncle,  Thomas  Scott. '^ 

This  correspondence  with  his  niece  continued,  and  pro- 
duced some  letters  which  may  hereafter  be  introduced. 
He  says  to  her,  Dec.  13,  1814,  ^^It  is  very  true  that  I 
can  spare  little  time  for  letter- writting,  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  the  word  :  but,  if  I  could,  by  any  thing  which  I 
might  write,  be  an  instrument  in  the  hand  of  God  in  lead- 
ing you  into  the  paths  of  peace  amd  salvation,  it  would 
fall  in  with  the  object  of  all  my  occupation — the  ministry 
of  reconciliation — beseeching  sinners  to  be  reconciled  to 
God.'' 

In  January  following,  occurred  a  death  which  might 
justly  be  accounted  a  public,  as  well  as  private  loss — that 


401  FKOM  THE  DlSl*OSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLK,     [ChAP.   XV. 

of  my  fathers  highly  esteemed  friend  and  benefactor,  Mr. 
Henry  Thornton.  About  a  year  before  tliat  event,  after 
a  considerable  interruption  of  their  intercourse,  he  had 
received  a  letter  from  Mr.  T.,  just  in  the  midst  of  his 
disquietude  at  the  discovery  he  had  made  of  the  state  of 
his  pecuniary  affairs,  which  was  highly  cheering  to  his 
mind.  It  breathed  united  kindness  and  piety.  "  I  have 
heard  lately,"  said  the  writer,  "  one  or  two  very  unfa- 
vourable accounts  of  your  health,  and  I  cannot  resist  my 
inclination  to  assure  you,  though  from  this  desk  of  world- 
ly business,  how  much  I  sympathize  with  you  in  those 
temporal  sorrows,  which  I  doubt  not  are  working  out  for 
you,  as  you  have  been  used  so  often  to  say  to  others,  a 
far  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory. — Hav- 
ing in  more  early  life  been  an  attendant  on  your  ministry, 
I  cannot  at  this  later  period  be  forgetful  of  my  obligations 
to  you  ;  and,  though  I  may  have  assisted  you  in  some  de- 
gree in  what  may  partly  be  called  your  carnal  things,  I 
mean  in  what  concerned  the  printing  of  your  Commen- 
tary on  the  Bible,  1  still  feel  myself  on  the  whole  your 
debtor  :  since  my  advantages,  like  those,  I  trust,  of  many 
others,  are  not  capable  of  being  estimated  at  any  pecuniary 
price." — My  father  had  just  been  preaching  from  the 
passage  of  scripture  alluded  to  by  Mr.  T.,  (2  Cor.  iv.  16 
— 18,)  when  on  his  return  home  he  found  this  letter,  and 
in  it  a  real  cordial,  such  as  he  wanted.  He  considered  it 
as  confirming  the  intimation  he  had  formerly  received 
from  Mr.  T.'s  father,  that  his  ministry  had  been  blessed 
as  the  means  of  first  giving  a  decidedly  religious  turn  to 
Mr.  H.  T.'s  mind.  Independently,  therefore,  of  the 
kindness  which  it  breathed,  and  the  "  dawn  of  light'^ 
which  it  cast  upon  the  "  gloom"  that  had  surrounded 
him,  it  could  not  but  afford  him  the  highest  gratification 
to  think  of  having  contributed,  in  any  degree,  to  the 


1813 — 1821.]       TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  405 

formation  of  such  a  character  as  Henry  Thornton  : 
and  much  more  to  have  been  made  instrumental  (as  he 
hoped^)  in  infusing  that  principle^  which  was  the  firm 
basis  of  all  his  sterling  virtues. — Proportioned,  accord- 
ingly, to  the  regard  which  he  bore  to  Mr.  H.  T.,  was 
my  father's  regret  for  his  loss,  when  he  was  removed 
from  the  world  by  death,  so  premature  to  all  but  him- 
self. His  notice  of  it  in  a  letter,  written  a  few  days 
after,  is  brief,  but  touching  ;  and  at  the  same  time 
worthy  of  the  writer.  "  I  cannot  express,^'  he  says, 
•^  how  much  the  death  of  Mr.  H.  Thornton  affects  me ; 
even  as  the  death  of  some  near  relation.  I  feel  low  and 
grieved  whenever  I  think  of  it :  but  the  Lord  is  wise 
and  faithful.  The  Lord  reward  upon  his  fatherless 
children  all  his  kindness  to  me  and  mine  ! — As  far  as 
either  your  concerns  or  mine  are  implicated,  it  is  a 
fresh  lesson  on  the  admonition,  Cease  ye  from  mari^ 
whose  breath  is  in  his  nostrils.  When  the  rush-light 
in  my  chamber  goes  out,  it  is  dark  ;  but  that  darkness 
leads  me  to  expect  the  dawn  and  the  sun.  All  things 
will  be  right  at  last,  if  loe  be  right.  Nothing  is  of  much 
consequence  but  eternity. '^ 

This  prayer  tor  Mr.  H.  T.'s  "  fatherless  children," 
(who  so  soon  after  became  motherless  also,)  he  never 
ceased  to  repeat  as  long  as  he  lived  ;  almost  daily  allu- 
ding to  them,  though  without  a  name,  yet  in  a  manner 
that  was  understood,  in  his  family  worship. 

The  next  publication,  which  proceeded  from  my  fa- 
ther's pen,  was  occasioned  by  the  death  of  another  highly 
honoured  and  dear  friend,  whom  he  always  considered  as 
one  of  the  most  eminent  Christians  that  he  had  ever 
known  or  read  of.  This  was  the  Right  Hon.  Lady  Mary 
Fitzgerald.       That   exceHent    person  lost   her  life,  at 


406  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,  [ClIAP.  XV. 

nearly  ninety  years  of  age,  by  fire !  and  my  father 
preached  and  ])iihlished.  in  A])ril,  1815,  a  sermon 
on  the  occasion,  in  which  he  gives  a  very  interesting 
sketch  of  her  character,  and  the  outline  of  her  history. 
He  observes  in  the  preface,  that  she  "  was  constantly, 
when  in  town,  and  when  health  would  permit,  an  attend- 
ant on  his  ministry  for  above  seventeen  years.''  ^'  I 
was  also  honoured,"  he  says,    ^*  with  what  might  almost 

be  considered  as  an  intimacy  w4th  her She  was  very 

useful  in  strengthening  my  hands  in  my  ministry,  when 
concurring  circumstances  tended  greatly  to  w'eaken  and 
discourage  me  :  and  she  has  always  been  ready  to  aid 
and  concur  with  me  in  every  plan  for  attempting  useful- 
ness, not  only  while  I  was  in  town,  but  since  I  came  to 
this  place."  In  the  body  of  the  discourse,  speaking  with 
reference  to  the  same  subject,  he  says  :  '^Many  a  time, 
when  cares  and  disquietudes  seemed  to  disqualify  my 
mind,  for  either  receiving  or  imparting  spiritual  good, 
and  I  called  on  her,  rather  from  a  sense  of  duty,  and  to 
testify  respect  and  gratitude,  than  from  higher  motives 
and  expectations  ;  free  communication,  in  discourse  with 
her,  has  produced  such  a  change,  and  I  have  been  so  sen- 
sibly calmed,  refreshed,  and  animated  for  every  work  and 
labour  of  love,  that  I  could  hardly  believe  myself  the  same 
anxious,  heartless  being,  which  I  had  been  only  just  be- 
fore. Indeed  I  may  say,  I  scarcely  ever  experienced 
such  an  effect  from  any  book  or  sermon,  however  excel- 
lent. And  this  was  the  case  especially  in  my  last  visits 
to  her  ;  when  I  was  led  to  think,  from  what  I  had  pre- 
viously heard,  that  concurring  infirmities  precluded  much 
expectation  of  interesting  discourse"  between  us. 

The  following  extracts  of  letters  will  shew  what  were 
his  further  occupations  at  this  period. 

^«  March  13,  1813.     I  have  sent  to  the  Christian  Ob- 


1813 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  407 

server  a  sheet  of  translation  from  Calvin,  on  the  uses  of 
the  moral  law,  which  appears  to  me  exceedingly  well 
adapted  to  meet  the  perversions  of  modern  Calvinists,  as 
well  as  to  vindicate  the  author  from  the  ignorant  and  il- 
liberal abuse  generally  thrown  on  him.  I  have  a  great 
idea  that  extracts  from  Calvin  might  be  rendered  verv 
useful,  if  circulated  as  present.  I  am  studying  him  more 
than  I  ever  did  before  ;  and,  in  my  revisal  of  the  "  Re- 
marks,^' (which  I  am  trying  to  put  quite  iiito  another 
form,  and  not  only  to  condense,  but  to  improve  every 
way,)  I  now  and  then  make  most  conclusive  quotations 
from  him.  I  allow  the  time  in  the  forenoon,  after  I  have 
taught -,  for  this  employment,  when  not  interrupted. 

"  But  my  main  occupation  is  the  Index  to  the  Bible. 
The  partners  are  so  urgent  for  me  to  expediate  it,  that  I 
am  forced  to  give  up,  or  postpone  my  plans  of  revision 
and  improvement  of  the  Commentary,  which  I  was  car- 
rying on,  in,  I  trust,  a  useful  manner.  I  spend  half,  or 
more,  of  my  working  time  (which  is  nearly  all^  except 
sleeping  time,)  about  it.  1  find  it  a  difficult  and  cum- 
brous business  :  and  yet  1  think  the  Index  itself  will  throw 
much  light  on  the  scriptures,  and  on  the  comment.  I 
must  begin  very  soon  to  print ;  and,  when  I  am  prepa- 
ring copy  for  the  press,  I  hope  God  will  aid  me  to  sim- 
plify the  business,  more  than  I  can  do  in  the  rough  draft. 

"  Thomas's  Sermon  and  Memoir  of  Mr.  West  give 
an  idea  of  sterling  excellence  aui  generis^  which  is  suited 
to  put  most  affluent  professors  of  the  Gospel  on  thinking. 
What  do  I  ?  or,  What  might  I  do  ?" 

The  last  paragraph  refers  to  my  brother's  little  pub- 
lication on  the  death  of  a  founder  of  Gawcott  Chapel, 
which  was  before  mentioned.  Of  the  Index  to  the  Com- 
mentary, which  afterwards  partook  also  of  the  character 
of  a  Concordance  to  the  sacred  text,  and  was  finally  re- 


408  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,  [ChAP.   XV. 

linf|uishc(l  for  iDore  urgent,  perhaps  more  important  em- 
ployment, we  shall  have  further  occasion  to  speak  as  we 
proceed. 

"  May  16,  1815.  I  have  had  some  measure  of  fever, 
and,  though  I  have  not  been  laid  by,  I  have  been  render- 
ed less  capable  of  extra-exertion  than  usual.  I  have 
written  and   published  a  funeral  sermon  on  dear  Lady 

Mary  Fitzgerald I  have  also  been  forming  an  index 

to  my  answer  to  Crooll,  which  is  just  coming  out 

''  You  will  have  heard  that  Mr.  Fuller  is  dead.  This 
will  be  a  great  loss  to  the  Baptist  Mission  especially  :  but 
it  is  so  firmly  fixed,  that  it  is  not  likely  to  be  easily  shaken. 
A  little  less  eagerness  about  adult  baptism,  in  a  secretary, 
would  compensate  something. — So  one  goes,  and  another, 
younger  than  I,  and  I  go  on  preaching  and  writing  !  I 
have  written  a  long  letter,  which  is  printing  in  an  Irish 
pamphlet,  respecting  our  church,  &c.  ;  in  which  I  am 
sure  I  shall  not  satisfy  the  bigots  on  any  side  :  but  which, 
I  flatter  myself  may  do  some  good.  The  pamphlet  is  en- 
titled, '  The  Evil  of  Separation  from  the  Established 
Church,  in  a  Series  of  Letters  to  the  Rev.  Peter  Roe, 
Kilkenny.'  I  had  no  hand  in  the  title,  or  in  any  thing 
but  the  introductory  letter. 

"  I  think  more  good  is  going  on  in  this  neighbourhood 
than  there  was,  and  fresh  persons  come,  in  place  of  that 
large  proportion  of  the  old  congregation  which  has  left 
lis  :  so  that  our  company  is  not  much  smaller.  I  go  on 
with  my  routine  of  services,  as  usual,  but  am  extremely 
weary  ;  yet  not  materially  worse  afterwards." 

About  two  years  afterwards,  the  pamplet,  here  refer- 
red to,  was  reprinted  in  London  ;  and,  on  that  occasion, 
my  father  added  a  second  letter,  with  an  appendage,  of 
which  he  speaks  as  follows  :  — 

*^  In  revising  my  papers  which  Mr.  Roe  published,  I 


1813 1821.]         TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  409 

have  been  led  to  write  a  Treatise  on  the  Reliarion  of  Is- 
rael,  as  an  establishment^  and  have  been  drawn  on  to  ex- 
tend it  to  some  sheets.  It  is,  I  think,  quite  original,  and 
gives  a  view  of  the  whole  subject,  entirely  diiferent  from 
what  I  ever  read  or  conceived  before  I  began,  and  highly 
favourable  to  establishments  in  generalJ^  .... 

The  mention  which  occurs  of  the  changes  in  his  con- 
gregation may  give  occasion  here  to  introduce  the  follow- 
ing excellent  remarks  from  a  letter,  written,  at  a  some- 
what earlier  period,  to  a  gentleman  then  resident  at  Cam- 
bridge, but  since  very  usefully  employed  in  the  ministry ; 
who,  at  the  instance  of  a  clerical  friend,  consulted  him  on 
the  best  means  of  obviating  such  fluctuations. 

"  March  7,  1814.  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  your 
kind  inquiries  after  my  health,  and  to  all  my  friends  who 
pray  for  me  in  this  respect :  but  I  especially  need  and 
value  prayer  for  me,  that  I  may  be  carried  through  the 
last  stage  of  my  pilgrimage,  in  a  manner  which  may  adorn 
and  honour  the  gospel  of  God  our  Saviour. 

"  ....  I  am  enabled  to  spend  almost  as  much  time  in 
my  studies,  and  with  my  pen,  as  heretofore  ;  and  to  offi- 
ciate in  my  little  church  as  formerly.  Indeed  I  wish  I 
were  as  well  able  in  mind,  as  in  body,  to  answer  the  in- 
quiry which  you  so  reluctantly  propose  to  me  :  but  this  is 
by  no  means  the  case.  All  ray  experience,  and  observa- 
tion, and  study,  wholly  fail  to  teach  me  how  to  keep  to- 
gether a  congregation,  which  is  prejudiced  against  some 
part  of  that  instruction,  which  faithfulness  renders  it  my 
duty  to  inculcate.  It  seems  to  me  as  hopeless,  as  to  give  the 
farmer  counsel  how  he  may  use  his  fan,  and  yet  not  lessen 
the  heap  of  corn  and  chaff"  on  his  barn-floor.  Even  in 
respect  of  opinions  about  adult  baptism  introduced  lately 
in  my  little  congregation,  all  the  plans,  which  I  have  de- 
vised, seem  wholly  to  fail,  in  respect  of  keeping  together 

3F 


410  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,   [ClIAP.  XV. 

even  those  who  received  their  first  religious  impres- 
sions under  my  ministry.  I  have  prayed  much  respect* 
ing  it,  and  varied  mv  plans:  but  yet  my  people  continue 
to  leave  me  ;  especially  the  newly-awakened,  who,  I  fear, 
go  to  be  lulled  asleep  again  by  immersion,*  and  joining  a 
baptist  congragation  in  the  next  village 

**  In  all  cases,  as  far  as  my  experience  and  observation 
reach,  they,  who  have  received  partial  religious  instruc- 
tion, and,  as  it  were,  made  up  their  minds  to  it,  will 
heap  a  new  minister  so  long  as  he  tells  them  what  they 
already  know  or  believe.  This  is  the  standard  by  which 
they  try  his  doctrine  :  but,  if  he  attempts  to  rectify  their 
errors,  however  manifest,  and  with  whatever  ability  and 
candour  he  does  it ;  or  to  instruct  their  ignorance,  how- 
ever palpable  ;  they  will  take  offence,  and  probably  for- 
sake his  ministry  ;  accusing  him  of  some  deviation  from 
sound  doctrine,  as  their  reason  for  so  doing.  Yet,  without 
their  errors  be  rectified,  or  their  deficiencies  supplied,  or 
their  characters  improved,  their  attendance  is  wholly  in 
vain 

"  A  niece  of  mine,  now  married  to  a  missionary  in  Af- 
rica, used  to  say,  that  I  preached  straight  forward:  and 
thus  1  would  ndvise  your  friend  to  do  ;  to  pre.ich  straight 
forward^  dechiring  what  he  deems  the  truth  of  God,  sim- 
ply and  jdaiidy  ;  but  not  turning  aside  to  argue  against 
any  who  dissent  from  it,  except  in  matters  of  superior  im- 
portance and  clearness. 

"  He  shoald,  however,  endeavour  to  proportion  his 
doctrine  to  the  scriptural  measure:  and  not  to  have  more 
Calvinism,  properly  so  called,  in  his  sermons,  in  propor- 
tion to  other  instructions,  than  is  found  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament.    Some  Calvinists  put  as  much  into  a  sermon  as 

*  Viz.  by  resting  in  the  external  change  and  profession 


1813 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  411 

the  whole  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles  contain,  but  far  less  of 
other  things.  Mr.  Newton  used  to  say,  that  Calvinism 
should  be,  in  our  general  religious  instructions,  like  a 
lump  of  sugar  in  a  cup  of  tea ;  all  should  taste  of  it,  but 
it  should  not  be  met  with  in  a  separate  form. — I  think  I 
could  preach  all,  which  is  essential  to  my  Calvinism,  even 
to  pious  Wesleyans,  for  a  short  time,  and  almost  win 
their  assent :  but  not  all  Methodists  are  pious  and  hum- 
ble ;  the  hearts,  as  well  well  the  hmds,  of  some  are  Ar- 
minian :  these  are,  and  will  be,  spies :  they  will  discern 
the  deviation,  if  not  by  seeing,  yet  hj  feeling  ;  and  will 
alarm  their  more  humble  brethren. — Yet  still  individuals 
will  get  good ;  and  others  will  be  brouo:ht  forth ;  andy 
when  we  have  done  what  we  can,  we  must  leave  the  rest 
to  God  in  prayer.^' 

With  this  may  be  connected  a  short  extract  from  a  let- 
ter to  his  youngest  son,  written  at  the  period  at  which 
we  have  arrived. 

''  October  23,  181ii.     I  suppose  no  man  ever  entered 
on  a  new  sphere,  with  your  views  of  what  man  ought  to 
be,  without  finding  more  and   more,   that  those  among 
whom  he  laboured  were  further  fron*  that  standard  than 
he  at  first  supposed.      Human   wickedness  and   humaii 
misery  always  appear  greater  on  investigation  than  on  a 
superficial  view.     But  to  be  the  honoured  instrument  of 
doing  even  a  little  good  in  this  mischievous,  miserable, 
deluded,  ungodly  world   is  a  singular  mercy  and  privi- 
lege  :  and  the  more  diseased  your  neighbours  are,  the 
more  is  medical  help  needful.     Some,  yea  many,  will 
die,  do  all  you  can  :  but  take  heed  to  thyself  and  to 
the  doctrine,  for  in  so  doing  thou  shalt  both  save  thy- 
self and  them  that  hear  thee.     A  little  good  one  year, 
and  a  little  good  another  year,  amounts  to  much  good  iq. 
a  course  of  years.  Watch  then  against  dejection.  Preach, 


41ii  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  llIS  BIBLE,  [ChAP.  XV'. 

and  pray,  and  wait,  and  persevere,  and  all  will  be  well  at 
last.*' 

VVe  liave  already  seen  him  contemplatini^  a  new  and 
re-modelled  edition  of  his  answer  to  the  ••  Refutation  of 
Calvinism/'  This  was  one  of  the  works  which  now  em- 
ployed such  time  as  could  be  spared  for  it.  He  says, 
January  6,  1816,  "  The  first  book  of  the  Remarks  is  fin- 
ished :  much  enlarged  and  reduced  to  method,  under  nu- 
merous sections  ;  several  containing  entirely  new  matter. 
I  purpose  to  leave  out  all,  or  most,  beyond  the  fourth 
book,  and  to  shorten  that.  I  have  begun  to  print ;  but 
I  shall  go  on  very  slowly.'' — The  parts  thus  proposed 
to  be  omitted  were  chiefly  those  which  related  to  the  ex- 
tracts from  the  Fathers,  introduced  in  the  '^^  Refutation." 

This  year  (1816)  was  a  year  of  many  trials  to  him. 
At  the  commencement  of  it  he  suffered  from  fever  ;  and 
again  so  severely,  in  the  month  of  April,  that  he  fully  an- 
ticipated its  fatal  termination.  The  life  also  of  his  se- 
cond son  was  brought  into  the  most  imminent  peril  by 
sudden  and  very  distressing  illness  ;  while  his  youngest 
son  was  oblighed  to  relinquish  a  situation,  in  which  he 
had  hoped  for  much  usefulness,  by  the  great  profligacy 
and  even  threatening  behaviour  of  a  manufacturing  po- 
pulation, which  rendered  it  improper  to  retain  a  family 
amono:  them.  Certain  calamitous  events  also  in  collate- 
ral  branches  of  the  family  greatly  afflicted  him  :  as  did 
the  painful  intelligence  of  the  deaths  of  missionaries  in 
Africa,  who  had  been  trained  by  him,  and  from  whose 
labours  he  looked  for  important  results.  These,  and 
other  circumstances,  gave  occasion  to  certain  expressions 
in  some  further  extracts  which  I  shall  present  from  his 
letters. 

The  following  hints  on  the  subject  of  temptations  aris- 
ing chiefly  from  the  deep    and  mysterious  dealings  of 


1813 1821.]  TO  HI&  LAST  ILLNESS.  413 

God  with  the  human  race;  and  likewise  on  that  of  anx- 
iety concerning  the  spiritual  interests  and  future  state  of 
our  children  ;  will  not  be  uninteresting  to  those  who  have 
experienced  the  feelings  referred  to. 

''  March  4,  1816.  I  have  of  late  received  so  many 
letters  of  painful  intelligence^  that  they  have  almost 
been  to  me  like  the  messengers^  who  followed  one  anoth- 
er with  evil  tidings  to  Job ;  though,  I  bless  God,  far 
from  so  distressing ;  yet,  in  my  shattered  frame  and  spi- 
rits, rather  more  than  I  could  well  support.  .... 

"  I  have,  for  many  years,  when  assailed  by  harrassing 
mental  temptations,  taken  occasion  from  them  to  leave, 
as  it  were,  my  own  personal  concerns,  and  to  enlarge  es- 
pecially, after,  or  even  during  their  prevalence,  in  sup- 
plications for  the  extension  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ, 
and  for  the  subversion  of  that  of  Satan ;  subjoining  a 
sort  of  earnest  request,  to  be  enabled  to  be  revenged  on 
these  enemies,  by  more  vigorous  and   successful  eiforts 

in  the  cause  of  God Temptations  follow  tempers  , 

and  Satan  has  awfully  prevailedagainst  some  persons  of  a 
reasoning  turn  of  mind. — Such  things  used  to  harass  me 
,  much  more  than  they  do  at  present.     I  would  hope  be- 
cause I  take  a  better  method  of  getting  deliverance  from 

them In  general  I  consider  them  as  temptations  to 

unbelief,  contrary  to  the  fullest  proof  conceivable  ;  the 
remains  of  the  scepticism  of  our  hearts,  wrought  upon 
by  satanical  influence,  as  the  waves  of  the  sea  are  by  the 
wind ;  and  to  be  overcome  only  by  the  sword  of  the  spi- 
rit,  which  is  the  word  of  God — Thus  it  is  written  ; 
and  by  earnest  prayer,  Ufoa-^i?  y.oi  Trmv,  Increase  my  faith  ! 
Help  mine  unbelief !  ....  I  every  day  find  cause  to  bless 
God  for  protection  from  the  assaults  of  these  enemies  in 
this  respect ;  of  which  I  formerly  had  dire  experience. 
0  make  strong  thine  hedge  about  me  /  (Job  i.  10, )" 


414  FKOM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,    [ChAF.  XV, 

On  the  case  of  these  "  reasoning  persons,''  he  says,  in 
explanation.  March  19,  "  Not  one  of  them,  that  I  have 
heard  and  know  of,  seems  to  have  received  the  Urveo^  the 
truth,  as  well  as  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  ;  (2  Thess. 
ii.  10.  Heh.  x.  26  :) — a  distinction  which  appears  to 
me  of  great  importance.  A  want  of  simplicity,  humili- 
ty, and  gravity,  has  likewise  been  observable  in  them, 
by  all  competent  judges,  even  while  brilliant  talents  ex- 
cited the  admiration  of  pious  persons  in  general." 

With  reference  to  the  same  subject  he  says,  June,  25, 
'•  I  remember  that,  just  before  I  entered  on  my  expo- 
sition of  the  book  of  Job,  I  was  much  more  exercised 
with  such  temptations,  arising  from  the  awful  truths  of 
scripture,  and  dispensations  of  God,  than  at  any  time  be- 
fore or  since  :  and  I  have  long  thought,  that  this  was 
permitted,  among  other  things,  in  order  to  give  me  more 
realizing  views  of  that  awful  subject,  the  power  and 
agency  of  evil  spirits,  than  I  before  had;  and  that  it 
proved  very  useful  to  me  in  explaining  that  part  of  Scrip- 
ture.*' 

"  March  14,  1816.  Human  nature  verges  to  ex- 
tremes :  it  is  the  pendulum,  vibrating  to  and  fro,  and 
never  stationary  in  772,  dia.  Yet  truth  and  duty  gener- 
ally lie  in  medio — Tlie  want  of  solicitude  about  the  sal- 
vation of  their  children,  and  undue  solicitude  about  ac- 
complishments, preferment,  and  worldly  advantages, 
which  are  prominent  in  most  parents,  even  professors  of 
the  gospel,  nay  ministers,  have  be-  n  and  are  a  most  lamen- 
table evil,  and  a  grievous  sign  of  our  times.  But,  while 
this  is  watched  and  prayed  against,  we  should  be  careful 
not  to  nin  into  any  extreme  which  implies  distrust  of  God, 
or  want  of  submission  to  his  holy  and  sovereign  will,  who 
doeth  what  he  pleases,  but  always  does  what  is  right  ; 
and  what  all  his  friends  will  know  to  be  right  at  last,  and 


1813 — 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  415 

ought  to  believe  to  be  so  now I  am  of  opinion,  that 

few  thus  trained  up  (in  a   consistent  Christian  manner,) 

live    and    die  unconverted In  general,  the  Lord's 

method  is,  I  think,  first,  to  bring  down  our  wills  into  sub- 
mission, unreserved  submission  ;  and  then  to  grant  the 
thing  longed  for  :  and  the  sweetness  of  unreserved  sub- 
mission, after  many  conflicts  with  unbelief  and  a  rebellious 
will,  has  been  greater  than  almost  any  I  ever  felt,  in  hav- 
ing the  desires  of  my  heart  granted  me.  This  was  the 
final  result  of  my  long  protracted  rebellion  against  the 
doctrine  of  gratuitous  election.  I  shall  not  forget  the 
sweetness  of  saying,  for  substance,  JSven  so.  Father ,  for 
so  it  seemed  good  in  thy  sight  /" 

On  recovering  from  the  fever  under  which  he  suffered 
in  the  spring,  he  thus  wrote  to  his  correspondent  in 
Northumberland. 

^'  May  9,  1816.  I  am  quite  a  prisoner  in  this  place ; 
but  can  reach  the  church,  and  preach  nearly  as  usual.  I 
can  also  write,  and  read,  and  study,  many  hours  in  a  day ; 
but  always  uneasy  and  weary.  My  sight,  however,  and 
my  faculties  seem  unimpaired ;  though  I  hear  badly,  walk 
clumsily  and  with  pain,  and  do  not  suppose  I  shall  ever 
try  to  ride  more. — I  have,  however,  numerous  and  most 
valuable  mercies,  and  only  need  a  more  holy  and  thank- 
ful heart.  I  am  now  in  my  seventieth  year  ;  and  have 
outlived  almost  all  who  were  my  contemporaries,  and  many 

of  my  juniors,  in  the  ministry All  my  care  and 

prayers  about  my  own  children  in  this  respect  (their  con- 
version) are  transferred  to  my  sixteen  grand-children.  .  . 
I  desire,  and,  I  trust,  shall  not  in  vain  desire,  the  help 
of  your  prayers,  both  for  them  and  myself — that  I  may 

close  well It  might  be  expected  that  I  should  write 

to  each  of  them,  and  talk  particularly  to  them,  when  I 
see  them^  in  the  way  you  wish  me  to  write  to  your  child- 


416  IROM  THK  DISPOSAL  01-  HIS  BIBLE,    [ChAP.  XV. 

rcn  :  but  I  either  never  liad  tlie  proper  talent  for  this 
kind  of  service,  or  I  have  quite  lost  it.  I  pray  for  them, 
and  say  a  few  things  to  such  as  come  to  see  me  ;  and  they 
seem  very  much  attiched  to  me :  but  I  seem  ashamed  that 
I  feel  no  liberty  of  being  more  explicit  with  them.  I 
trust,  however,  their  parents  supply  my  lack  of  service. 
I  seem  to  have  lost  my  talent  of  prattling  with  children, 
just  as  I  have  my  adroitness  in  nursing.  You  must,  in 
this  respect,  tell  your  children  what  you  think  I  would 
say  or  write  to  them.  I  will  send  you  a  few  of  my  later 
publications,  ....  and,  if  you  meet  with  aught  too  Cal- 
vinistic,  you  must  skip  it.^^ 

The  closing  sentence  will  not  pass  unnoticed  :  "  If  you 
you  meet  with  aught  too  Calvinistic,  you  must  skip  it.'' 
As  coming  from  so  inveterate  a  Calvinist,  it  may  deserve 
to  be  again  referred  to  ;  as  may  also  one  or  two  other 
things  w  inch  have  come  before  us.  They  may  shew, 
where  persons  of  my  father's  sentiments  really  lay  the 
'Stress,  privately  as  well  as  in  public. 

To  myself  he  wrote  at  this  period  :  ^^  As  I  am  now^  in 
]ny  seventieth  year,  it  might  not  be  amiss  to  come  with 
part  of  your  liamily  each  year,  as  long  as  1  shall  be  w  ith 
you.  My  prayers  might  be  quickened  and  encouraged 
at  least,  which  is  almost  all  in  my  power  :  and,  as  my 
staying  at  home  saves  expcnce,  I  might  contribute  to  that 
of  your  journey.*' 

As  my  object  is,  to  display  fully  the  spirit  of  him  con- 
cerning whom  1  write,  I  make  no  apology  for  such  familiar 
extracts  :  and  I  apply  the  same  remark  to  that  which  fol- 
lows from  a  letter  of  my  sister^s. 

^*May  22,  1816.  I  think  we  should  break  through 
almost  any  inconveniences  for  the  benefit  and  pleasure  of 
our  dear  father's  company.  Alas!  we  must  not  expect 
this  high  privilege  long.     Let  us  enjoy  and  improve  it, 


1813 1821.]        TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  417 

while  we  possess  it !  He  preached  a  most  aifecting  sermon 
on  Thursday  from,  /  am  in  a  strait  betwixt  two,  Sf^c. 
The  description  of  heavenly  happiness  was,  I  think,  su- 
perior to  any  thing  I  ever  heard  or  read  :  and  at  the  same 
time  he  made  life  appear  more  desirable  than  I  ever  be- 
fore felt  it, — I  must  own  I  was  disposed,  like  you,  to  be 
very  averse  to  a  new  pupil  at  Aston  ;  but  his  coming  was 
entirely  my  father's  own  proposal.  He  wished  it  so  much, 
that  neither  my  mother  nor  myself  could  oppose  it." 

Hence  it  appsars  that,  though  my  father  had  for  some 
time  been  relieved  from  the  care  of  the  missionary  stu- 
dents, he  had  not  quite  given  up  the  labour  of  preparing 
young  men  for  the  church. — On  the  subject  of  this  addi- 
tional pupil  he  says,  ^^My  new  pupil  does  out  teazemf^ 
for  I  am  competent  to  teach  him.  My  old  one  teazes 
me  more,  for  I  cannot  keep  before  him.  But  I  feel  much 
comfort  in  the  hope,  that  great  good  may  hereafter  accrue 
from  each  of  them  being  so  unexpectedly  brought  under 
my  roof." 

Soon  after  this  I  visited  Aston,  as  my  father  had  desired, 
with  part  of  my  family,  and  had  the  pain  of  finding  my 
brother's  family  in  distress  from  the  death  of  an  infant 
daughter,  which  had  taken  place  at  my  sister's  house,  a 
few  miles  from  Aston.  I  mention  these  circumstances 
for  the  purpose  of  introducing  a  note  of  my  father's,  which, 
though  very  hastily  written,  I  think  worthy  of  inser- 
tion. 

"  June  31,  1816.  I  neither  object  to,  nor  care  about, 
interment  in  the  church,  or  church-yard  :  bat  I  make 
allowance  for  the  feelings  of  others.  I  never  mean  to 
give  any  directions,  in  this  respect,  about  my  own  funeral. 
....  If  the  dear  babe  is  to  be  interred  here,  I  shall  vastly 
prefer  performing  the  service  myself ;  and  should  take 
occasion  to  speak  on  the  subject ;  and  I  really  could  wish 

3G 


418  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,    [ChAP.  XV 

(thoiij^h  I  Stop  there)  that  you  and  Euphemia  too  would 
be  present,  as  something  might  he  said  profitable  to  all, 
and  comfortable  too. — An  old-fashioned  man,  I  feel  no 
approbation  of  the  fashion  of  near  relations  absenting  them- 
selves from  the  funeral.  1  think,  instead  of  preventing 
the  effects  of  grief,  it  is  shrinking  from  that  which  soon 
would  tend  to  comfort :  and  it  gives  others  an  idea,  that 
we  are  afraid  of  looking  the  matter  full  in  the  face,  so  to 
speak. — Depend  upon  it,  this  loss  of  a  babe,  who  never 
actually  sinned,  and  is  doubtless  interested  in  the  cove- 
nant, will  eventally  (though  exquisitely  painful  at  present.) 
be  the  source  of  future  sweetness.  She  is  gone  to  join 
her  grandmother,  and  her  aunt  and  two  uncles  (that  would 
have  been,)  &c. ;  and  I  feel  a  peculiar  conifort  in  think- 
ing that  I  have  another  descendent  in  heaven,  whom  I 
shall  shortly  join. — But  enough  !'' 

In  the  course  of  my  visit  he  made  the  following  contri- 
bution to  a  letter  to  his  eldest  grand-child. 

^^  July  25,  1816.  From  the  letters  which  you  write, 
I  am  disposed  to  think  of  you,  and  write  to  you,  as  be- 
coming now  a  woman,  not  as  a  child.  God  has  very  boun- 
tifully dealt  with  you,  in  his  providence,  in  giving  you  a 
sound  and  good  understanding,  and  very  valuable  oppor- 
tunities of  cultivating  it ;  which,  duly  improved,  will  do 
more  for  your  respectability  and  comfort  in  this  pre- 
sent life,  than  either  riches,  or  those  shewy  accomplish- 
ments, which  you  see,  and  perhaps  are  tempted  to  envy, 
in  some  of  the  children  of  your  superiors.  But  to  be  capable 
of  doing  something  useful  for  ourselves  and  others  is  afar 
better  preparation  for  the  future,  than  the  habits  of  a 
genteel  and  useless  life.  Learn  something  every  day. 
Every  young  person  who  knows  how  to  do  something  in 
the  evening,  which  was  unknown  in  the  morning,  has 
made  an  acquisition  which  nothing  can  take  from  him,  or 


1813 1821.]       TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  419 

her,  except  by  incapacitating  either  body  or  mind  for  its 
functions. — But  you  have  a  far  more  important  advantage 
aiforded  you,  in  the  religious  instructions  and  example 
set  before  you,  and  the  many  fervent  prayers  poured  out 
for  you  ;  and  in  all  your  great  privileges  in  this  respect. 
But  be  sure,  my  dear  Jane,  do  not  rest  in  these  things ; 
nor  in  notions,  nor  decency  of  conduct,  nor  in  a  form  of 
religion.  Be  all  in  earnest  in  secret  prayer,  and  often  in 
meditation  on  what  you  hear  and  read,  and  comparing  all 
with  the  scriptures.  Beg  of  God  for  his  special  convert- 
ing grace,  to  change  your  heart,  and,  as  it  were,  to  graft 
the  tree,  that  it  may  bring  forth  good  fruit.  0  consider 
your  soul — eternity — judgment  :  consider  the  anxious 
desires,  and  prayers,  and  hopes,  and  fe:^rs  of  your  dear 
parents  on  your  account.  What  delight  will  it  give  them, 
to  be  satisfied  that  you  have  chosen  the  good  part  which 
shall  never  be  taken  from  you  !  how  will  it  be  abmidant 
in  many  thatiksgivings  to  God  ;  and  rejoice  their  hearts 
under  every  difficulty  !  How  would  it  gladden  my 
heart,  under  all  my  infirmities,  to  hear  of  it  before  I  die! 
What  a  blessing  would  you  then  be  to  your  brothers  and 
sisters  !  I  will  bless  tlie.e^  and  thou  shall  be  a  blessing. 
May  God  bless  these  hints  !  May  he  bless  you,  and  tiiem 
all  V' 

The  impression  made  upon  my  own  mind  by  what 
I  witnessed,  I  could  not  forbear  thus  expressing  in  the 
same  letter  :  "  How  exciting  is  it  to  see  him,  amid  infir- 
mities and  indisposition,  so  elevated  in  mind,  ro'ising  and 
animating  all  about  him,  in  a  manner  quite  sublime.  How 
delightful  is  such  a  latter  end  !" 

After  hearing  of  our  safe  arrival  at  home,  he  wrote  as 
follows ; 

*'  August  23,  1816.  When  we  consider  what  may 
happen,  and  is  continually  happening,  we  ought  to  regard 


420  IROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,  [ChAP.  XV. 

these  (safe  journeys,  &c.)  as  calls  for  cheerful  gratitude  ; 
and,  in  such  a  world  as  this,  (made  such  hy  sin,  of  which 
our  sins  form  their  full  proportion,)  we  ought  to  be  al- 
ways on  the  look-out  far  something  to  cheer  us,  and  to 
excite  gratitude  to  God,  and  confidence  in  him  for  the 
future.  We  should  determine,  and  pray  to  be  enabled, 
to  dwell  on  the  bright  side  of  the  Lord's  dealings  with 
us,  and  dispensations  towards  us,  and  towards  all  connect- 
with  us  : — with  how  many  unmerited  mercies  we  are  fa- 
voured, and  from  how  many  deserved  evils  we  are  ex- 
empted : — and  we  should  carefully  turn  away  our  thoughts 
from  the  dark  side,  as  it  appears  to  us  ;  only  considering 
who  and  what  we  are,  have  been,  and  have  done,  that  we 
may  wonder  and  be  astonished,  that  things  are  so  well  with 
us  as  they  are. — ^The  same  reflections,  extended  to  our 
whole  apostate  race,  would  lead  us  rather  to  admire  that 
the  earth  is  so  full  of  the  goodness  of  the  Lord,  than  that 
it  is  so  full  of  sorrow  and  suffering. 

''  I,  also,  felt  low  and  gloomy  for  some  time  afer  you 
left  us :  but  I  afterwards  rejoiced  that  I  had  been  favour- 
ed to  see  you  and  yours  once  more,  &c.  Gen.  xlviii.  8 — 
11....  You  lay  too  much  stress  on  place  and  distance. 
When  further  advanced  in  the  school  in  which  St.  Paul 
was  taught  contentment,  you  will  rise  above  all  this  ;  and 
you  should  endeavour  to  do  it  now 

''  Tenderness  of  conscience  (a  healthy  state)  degener- 
ates, in  many  instances,  into  a  morbid  sensibility  :  so  that 
the  consciousness  of  rising  sinful  thoughts  and  desires  mix- 
ing with  more  pure  motives,  while  it  ought  to  produce 
humiliation,  proves  also  the  source  of  dejection  :  as  if 
there  were  any  saint  on  earth,  or  ever  had  been,  who 
was  wholy  delivered  from  these  things  :  or  as  if  it  could 
be  otherwise,  than  that  the  keener  our  vision,  the  great- 
er our  watchfulness,  and  the  deeper  our  hatred  of  every 


1813 1821.]         TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  421 

sin,  the  more  quick  raiist  be  this  sensibility  and 
the  more  acute  the  pain  which  attends  it,  till  all  sin  be 

extinguished We  must  not  stop  at  the  words,  Oivretch- 

^flf;7^a/^^Ar///«m,butadoptthe  apostle's  thanksgiving  also, 
and  so  accompany  him  to  the  end  of  the  chapter,  and  for- 
ward into  that  which  follows  it We  may  expect  too 

much  from  our  intercourse  when  we  meet,  and  thus^ 
through  the  partial  disappointment,  fail  of  the  comfort 
and  benefit  we  might  otherwise  receive.  It  reminds  me 
of  Mr.  Newton's  remark  :  •  If,  when  we  meet  together, 
we  expect  good  from  one  another,  and  not  from  God  % 
means  of  one  another,  we  resemble  empty  pitchers  at- 
tempting to  fill  each  other.' — As  to  myself,  I  am  a  poor 
creature,  at  best ;  and  it  cannot  be  long  that  I  shall  be 
able  to  communicate  even  counsels,  or  words  of  encou- 
ragement, to  you.  You  must  look  above  me  and  all  others, 
to  the  Lord  alone.  Trials  and  temptations  must  be  strug- 
gled through  by  frequent,  fervent,  wrestling  prayer. 
You  must  say,  Truly  my  soul  ivaiteth  upon  God ;  from 
him  Cometh  my  salvation.  (Psalm  Ixii.  1,  2  ;  5— -8.)  When 
Mr.  Newton  left  Olney,  I  seem  to  have  lost  my  cojinsel- 
lor  :  but,  carrying  my  difiiculties  immediately  to  the 
Lord,  I  believe  I  was  eventually  no  looser." 

A  few  months  after  he  was  called  again  to  address  his 
northern  correspondent  on  a  melancholy  occasion, — the 
death  of  a  married  daughter.  He  expresses  deep  sym- 
pathy with  her,  but  deeper  still  with  the  bereaved  hus- 
band :  yet  excuses  himself  from  writing  to  hiin.  ^M 
always,"  he  says,  "  look  upon  the  loss  of  a  beloved  and 
suitable  wife,  as  one  of  the  greatest  afflictions  that  can 
be  endured  upon  earth.  Were  he  therefore  ever  so 
nearly  related  to  me,  and  acquainted  personally,  I  should 
find  more  difiiculty  and  incompetency  in  writing  on  the 
subject,  than  on  almost  any  other Even  faith,  and 


422  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,   [ChAP.  XV. 

prayer  for  submission,  will  not  produce  their  full  effect, 
in  calnting  and  reconciling  the  mind,  till  time,  gliding  on, 
has,  so  to  speak,  abated  the  irritation  of  the  painful 
wound.  ...  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your  particular  ac- 
count of  your  children,  as  it  is  suited  to  direct  my  prayers 
for  them:  but  I  must  not  engage  in  any  fresh  cornspon- 
dence.  .  .  .  They  have  the  means  of  grace,  &c.  .  . .  Pray- 
er, connected  with  occasional  converse  with  them  on  the 
concerns  of  their  souls,  (not  too  frequent,)  with  a  general 
tenour  of  discourse  and  conduct  impressing  their  consci- 
ces  that  you  deeply  meanall  you  say^  are  your  part.  My 
children  generally  say,  that  what  I  spoke  to  others,  in  their 
presence,  on  religioussubjects,  impressed  them  more,  than 
when  1  directly,  as  it  were,  preached  to  them — The  Lord 
has  been  very  gracious  to  you  in  respect  to  several  oi'theni : 
while  you  thank  him  for  them,  it  will  encourage  prayer  for 
the  others :  and  at  length  you  may  perhaps  live  to  see  the  last 
brought  home :  or  you  may  join  with  the  inhabitants  of  hea- 
ven in  rejoicing  over  the  repentance  of  that  one  or  more, 
whom  vou  wept  and  prayed  over,  as  unconverted  and 
injpenitent,  while  you  lived  on  earth. 1  feel  consider- 
able interest  in  your  family  and  connexions.  These  seem  a 
plantation  in  a  far  country,  springing  up  from  seed  which 
I  was  the  instrument  of  sowing  at  Weston-Underwood  ; 
and  which  I  have  since  done  but  little  to  tend  and  water. 
I  have  great  cause  for  thankfulness  in  this  and  very  many 
respects,  that  God  hath  made,  and  is  making  me,  an  in- 
strument of  good  to  others.  Pray  for  me,  that  I  may  fui- 
ish  my  course  with  joy,  for  I  am  still  a  poor,  weak,  sin- 
ful creature." 

His  only  surviving  sister,  Mrs.  Webster,  was  now  far 
advanced  in  years,  and  labouring  under  increased  infir- 
uuties  :  which  drew  from  him  repeated  portions  of  let- 


1813- — 1821.]        TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  423 

ters,  strongly  expressive  of  sympathy,  and  adapted  to 
her  situation. 

"  December  8,  1815.  It  is  of  little  use  to  retrace  the 
past,  except  for  the  purposes  of  exercising  humiliation 
for  what  we  have  done  wTong,  and  gratitude  for  God's 
unmerited  and  numerous  mercies  :  and,  amidst  all  our 
pains,  and  sorrows,  and  infirmities,  comparing  all  the 
Lord's  dealings  with  us  with  our  own  deservings,  we  must 
still  say.  Surely  goodness  and  mercy  have  followed  me  all 
the  days  of  my  life :  and,  if  we  can  add,  /  shall  dwell 
in  the  house  of  the  Lord  forever,  we  may  well  say,  It 
is  enough  :  I  have  ivaited  for  thy  salvation,  0  Lord ! 
The  apostle,  who  had  his  full  share  of  tribulations  from 
every  quarter,  exhorts  the  Thessalonians,  no  doubt  from 
the  feelings  of  his  own  heart.  Pray  without  ceasifig  ;  in 
every  thing  give  thanks  ;  for  this  is  the  will  of  God 
in  Christ  Jesus  concerning  you.  As  to  the  past,  except 
as  the  effects  of  it  remain,  and  the  account  must  be  given, 
it  has  no  existence.  Like  an  uneasy  night,  it  is  over,  and 
the  uneasiness  with  it.  As  to  the  future,  it  may  never 
arrive,  and  all  our  cares  and  contrivances  about  it  are 
vain.  It  is  true  that  we  must  die,  and,  at  our  time  of  life, 
and  with  our  many  infirmities,  it  must  be  ere  long  :  but 
all  the  preceding  and  concurring  circumstances  are  wholly 
unknown  to  us,  and  we  ought  not,  for  a  moment,  to  be 
solicitous  about  them.  What  we  at  present  suffer,  or  en- 
joy, or  hope  for,  with  every  alleviation  or  aggravation  of 
suffering,  is  all  which  belongs  to  us.  The  morrow  shall 
take  thought  for  the  things  of  itself :  siifficient  for 
the  day  is  the  evil  thereof.  The  whole  is  the  hands  of 
Him,  who  hath  loved  his  people,  and  redeemed  them  to 
God  with  his  blood.  He  hath  the  keys  of  death  and  the 
unseen  world.  Precious  in  his  sight  is  the  death  of  his 
saints.     May  we  be  numbered  among  them  in  glory 


424  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,     [ChAP.  XV. 

everlasting  I  Let  us  only  aim  to  be  ever  ready?  and  give 
diligence  to  he  found  of  him  in  peace,  without  spot  and 
blameless  ;  and  then?  when  death  comes  to  remove  us, 
we  may  ho])c.  as  it  were,  to  hear  the  Saviour  say,  It  is  /, 
be  not  afraid.'^ 

Sentences  like  these,  from  one  who  was  then  daily 
walking  on  the  borders  of  the  dark  valley^  and  has  since 
passed  through  it,  acquire  a  sort  of  consecrated  charac- 
ter. He  was  himself  in  the  circumstances,  against  which 
he  endeavoured  to  support  a  beloved  sister  :  and  hence 
what  he  utters  carries  with  it  a  force,  which  the  same 
words  from  the  lips  of  a  mere  theorist  could  never  possess. 

To  the  same,  January  15,  1817.  "  I  have  no  special 
advice  to  give  :  and  it  is  only  the  old  over  again,  to  preach 
patience,  meekness,  &c.  Let  patience  have  its  perfect 
work,  that  ye  may  be  peifect  and  entire,  wanting  noth- 
ing. All  our  comforts,  alleviations,  and  hopes,  are 
mercy  :  all  our  sorrows  far  less  than  we  deserve.  Why 
then  should  a  living  man  complain  .^  As  Mr.  Newton 
iiscd  to  say,  A  sinner  has  no  right,  and  a  saint  has  no  rea- 
son— for  all  things  are  ivorking  together  for  his  good. 
And  God  has  a  right  to  correct  us  by  what  rod  it  pleas - 
eth  him.  Submission,  unreserved  submission,  is  not 
only  the  most  reasonable  thing  imaginable,  but  the  most 
calming,  consoling  state  of  mind  in  this  vale  of  tears; 
and  produces  the  happiest  effects  on  ourselves  and  all 
around  us  ;  especially  when  accompanied  with  daily 
earnest  prayer  for  tiiose,  in  particular,  whom  we  re- 
gard as  niost  instrumental  in  occasioning,  or  causing,  our 

trials May   God  bless  you   and  all   your's.     As  it 

seems  now  decided  that  we  shall  see  each  other  no  more 
on  eai'th,  may  we  be  daily  more  ready  for  a  joyful  meeting, 
very  soon,  in  heaven  !*' 

In  the  autumn  of  1816,  he  speaks  of  having  made  ar- 


1813' — 1821.]        TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  425 

rangements  for  more  vigorously  prosecuting  his  Index 
and  Concordance,  at  the  request  of  the  proprietors  of  his 
Commentary  :  and  in  March  1817,  after  mentioning  his 
second  letter  to  the  Rev.  Peter  Roe,  on  religious  esta- 
blishments, (which  was  noticed  above,)  he  says  ;  "  I  have 
finished  my  new  edition  of  the  Remarks.  You  will,  in 
the  concluding  sheets,  see,  that  I  have  undertaken  to  pub- 
lish a  translation  of  the  Articles  of  the  Synod  of  Dort, 
and  all  that  respects  them.  I  scarcely  ever  read  more 
sound  divinity  :  yet  too  much  is  aimed  at.  I  shall  annex 
a  few  notes  and  references  ;  and  point  out  what  I  judge 
to  be  right,  and  what  wrong,  in  the  whole  business. — By 
the  way,  the  Sylloge  Confessionum,  printed  at  Oxford,  is 
a  book  well  worth  reading  throughout." 

Three  months  afterwards  he  says  again  :  ^^  I  hope  to 
form  a  multifarious  and  useful  pamphlet  on  the  Synod  of 
Dort.  I  mean  to  make  it  a  vehicle  of  my  sentiments  on 
a  variety  of  subjects,  on  which  I  should  never  other- 
wise have  spoken  out."  The  proposed  work  was  cotn- 
pleted  in  the  spring  of  1818^  and  published  in  a  small 
octavo  volume. 

The  month  of  November,  1817,  will  be  long  remem- 
bered, as  having  inflicted  upon  the  heart  of  the  whole  na- 
tion a  deeper  pang  of  disappointment  and  regret,  by 
the  death  of  that  illustrious  princess  in  whom  all  our 
hopes  had  centered,  than  was  perhaps  ever  felt  on  any 
like  occasion.  This  event  claims  to  be  noticed  here, 
not  only  as  having  drawn  forth  another  publication 
from  my  father's  pen, — a  funeral  sermon  entitled.  "The 
Voice  of  God  to  Great  Britain,"— but  for  the  fresh  dis- 
covery which  is  made  of  the  tenderness  of  his  heart,  and 
his  lively  interest  in  the  public  welfare.  I  shall  transcribe 
two  short  extracts  of  letters  on  this  subject. 

"  December  1,  1817.     Your  father  preached  on  the 

3H 


426  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  "niliLE,  [ClIAP.   XV. 

Sunday  a  very  afitcting  sermon  from  1  Pet.  i.  22 — 25  ; 
anf!  shed  more  tears  in  the  pulpit,  than  ever  I  saw  him  do 

before On  the  Wednesday  (the  day  of  the  funeral ) 

we  had  a  very  crowded  cong?'egation,  and  he  prearhed 
again,  from  Micah  vi.  9,  a  sermon  which  is  now  in  the 
press." 

December  12,  from  my  sister  : — "  I  never  saw  my 
dear  father  so  overwhelmed  by  any  calamity,  nor  so  ready 
to  anticipate  evil.  His  spirits  are  however  now  revived 
in  some  measure,  and  he  seems  gratified  by  the  manner 
in  which  the  nation  at  large  has  received  the  chastise- 
ment  His  sermons  on  the  Sunday  after  he  receiv- 
ed the  news  were  the  most  affecting,"'  (more  so  than  the 
printed  one,  preached  on  the  day  of  the  funeral) — "  dis- 
tressingly so  indeed.  He  was  so  overpowered  by  his  feel- 
ings, that  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  he  proceeded. 
— They  say  age  chills  the  affections,  but  this  is  not  the 
case  with  him.  He  is  all  tenderness  and  sympathy — 
daily,  indeed,  becoming  more  like  Christ.  I  sometimes 
feel  alarmed  at  seeing  him  ripen  so  fast  for  glory.  Oh 
that  we  might  catch  some  portion  of  his  spirit  before  he 
is  taken  from  us  !'^ 

The  commencement  of  the  year  1818  introduces  us  to 
what  furnished  the  principle  employment  of  his  remain- 
ing days — the  preparation  of  a  new  edition  of  his  Bible, 
to  be  printed  in  stereotype,  and  therefore  to  receive  his 
last  corrections  and  improvements.  He  thus  writes, 
March  3d  :  ^^  I  have  gone  through  the  winter  months 
(which  have  been  remarkably  mild,)  better  than  I  could 
have  expected.  I  have  had  but  little  fever  :  one  Sunday 
I  was  laid  by  ;  but  I  was  better  in  a  short  time.  I  am 
however  very  infirm,  and  in  almost  constant  pain,  though 
not  acute,  in  my  teeth  and  elsewhere :  yet  1  am  still  as 
fully  employed  in  my  study  as  ever  ;  and  am  able  to 


1813 1821,]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  427 

preach  at  my  church,  I  hope  not  quite  in  vain  .  .  . «  I 
wish  to  explain  to  you  what  has  been  done,  and,  is  doing, 
about  reprinting  the  exposition  of  the  Bible.  As  I  was 
not  employed  about  the  last  edition.  I  had  no  expectation 
that  I  should  have  any  more  to  do  with  another,  and  only 
hoped  that  my  rather  corrected  copy  would  be  taken  to 
print  from.  Nor  was  I  aware  that  a  new  edition  was  in 
present  contemplation."  He  then  states  that  another 
was  proposed,  to  be  brought  out  in  the  course  of  two 
years  and  a  half;  that  a  young  man,  long  an  inmate  with 
him,  had  been  applied  to  to  conduct  it  through  the  press ; 
and  that  he  himself,  judging  that,  "for  an  edition  which 
should  be  the  standard  of  the  work  as  long  as  it  may  ex- 
ist, it  was  highly  desirable  that  he  should,  as  far  as  life 
and  mental  powers  were  spared,  superintend  the  revisal," 
he  had  been  induced  to  undertake  this  service.  "  Since 
this  was  settled/'  he  proceeds,  "the  partners  have  come 
to  a  determination  to  stereotype  the  work ;  which  cer- 
tainly is  gratifying  to  me.'' — Still  this  new,  and,  as  it 
proved,  very  laborious  employment,  was  not,  in  his  in- 
tention, to  supersede,  nor  did  it,  for  some  time,  in  fact, 
supersede  his  preparation  of  the  proposed  Concordance 
and  Index. — "  It  will  not  be  long,"  he  says,  "  ere  they 
are  finished  :  within  the  course  of  the  summer,  if  I  am 
preserved." 

In  July,  he  says  on  the  same  subject,  "I  have  now- 
come  to  a  determination  to  devote  every  evening  to  revi- 
sion for  the  new  edition  of  the  Bible  ;  and  more  of  my 
time,  if  required,  and  as  I  am  able.  I  have  brought  my 
revision  so  far,  as  to  have  nearly  settled  ail  the  points 
for  consideration,  in  what  I  had  previously  looked  over. 
...  It  is  evident  that  I  have  ftdlen  into  some  inaccuracies 
in  what  I  before  ventured  on  critical  points,  and  most  of 


428  I'KOM  THE  DISPOSAL  Ol    lllS   BlULE,     [CUAP.  XV. 

wliat  is  now  attempted  will  be  new,  but  well  weighed,  if  I 
live." 

In  Oetobcr  he  adds,  ^'  I  am  so  engaged  in  preparing 
copy,  correeting  proofs,  &c.  for  the  new  edition  of  the 
Bible,  tliat  1  ean  do  little  towards  completing  my  Concor- 
dance." 

On  the  last  day  of  May,  this  year,  he  wrote  the  follow- 
ing deeply  Christian  and  affecting  letter  to  his  Northum- 
brian correspondent,  who  was  mourning  the  loss  of  a  son. 

"  May  31,  1Mb.  I  received  your  very  sorrowful  let- 
ter, and  can  tr\dy  say,  that  I  sympathize  with  you  in  your 
sorrow,  and  do  pray  that  the  Lord  may  comfort  you  under 
it ;  and  not  only  so,  but  greatly  sanctify  it  to  your  soul. 
In  order  to  this,  I  shall  make  a  few  remarks  on  the  sub- 
ject, the  result  of  much  reflection  on  the  state  of  this  suf- 
fering dying  world,  and  on  the  instructions  of  scripture 
in  this  particular. — All  our  affections  and  passions  ought 
to  be  subordinated  to  the  love  of  God,  and  obedience  to 
his  will ;  and  rugulated  accordingly  :  so  that  the  indul- 
gence of  sorrow  ;  is  as  contrary  to  our  duty,  as  the  indul- 
gence of  anger ^  though  more  plausible,  and  deemed  more 
amiable  ;  and  therefore  less  generally  and  strenuously  re- 
sisted. We  are  no  more  warranted  to  say,  '  I  do  well  to 
be  sorrowful,'  (that  is,  to  indulge  sorrow,)  than  Idoiucll 
to  be  angry,  God  appoints  the  event :  he  is  wise,  right- 
eous, faithful,  and  merciful  ;  and  we  deserve  far  worse 
from  him.  His  appointment  is  far  difl'erent  from  our  in- 
clination, or  alfection  ;  but  then  we  are  foolish,  j)artia1, 
wayward,  selflsh.  Whether  then  is  right,  his  appoint- 
ment or  our  inclination  ?  The  former,  doubtless  :  and,  if 
so,  indulged  sorrow  is  in  fact  rebellion  against  that  ap- 
pointment; and  as  such  should  be  watched,  and  striven, 
and  i)ra}  ed  against,  with  all  earnestness. — The  Lord  hath 
taken  away  from  us  a  beloved  object :  i/ie  deairc  of  our 


1813 1821.  J   TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  429 

eyesioith  a  stroke:  but,  is  He  not  all-sufficient?  does  He 
not  yet  live  ?  is  He  not  an  unchangeable  good  ?  Surely  we 
should  not  say,  ivhat  have  I  more  ?  He,  that  made  the 
beloved  object  a  comfort  to  us,  is  able  to  comfort  us  with- 
out it,  immediately,  or  through  other  channels. — '  But, 
I  must  love  my  child,  and  mourn  his  loss.'  Yes,  yet  with 
submission  :   you  must  not  love  your  child  more  than 
Christ ;  nor  will  you,  if  you  be,  as  I  trust,  his  disciple. 
Here  your  love  and  natural  affection  must  be  subordi- 
nated ;  else  it  will  appear,  that,  in  taking  away  the  be- 
loved object,  he  hath  in  fact  taken  away  an  idol. — '  But 
I  am  not  fully  satisfied  as  to  his  soul.'     Well  then,  there 
were  hopeful  tokens,  on  which  to  stay  your  mind.     But 
if  it  had  not  been  so  ;  think  of  Eli's  two  sons,  and  how, 
when  their  doom  was  denounced,  he  said.  It  is  the  Lord, 
let  him  do  what  seemeth  him  good.     And  he  bore  the 
tidings  of  their  death  ;  but  when  it  was  added,  the  ark  of 
God  is  taken^  he  fell  and  died. — Think  of  David's  belov- 
ed Absalom  ;  and  observe  that  his  strongly  marked  ex- 
pressions  of  sorrow  are  universally  condemned,  as  rebel 
lions  and  ungreatful.     Think  of  the  manner  in  wiiich 
Job's  numerous  family  was  at  once  cutoff;  and  of  his  jea- 
lousy, lest  in  their  feasting  they  should  sin  against  God  : 
yet  hear  him  say,    The  Lord  gave^  and  the  Lord  hath 
taken  aivay ;  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord.  In  all  this 
Job  sinned  not,     I  question  whether  Job  was  more  satis- 
fied  as  to  the  state  of  any  of  his  children's  souls,  than 

your  are  about  your  son's.     Think  of  dear  Lady 

:  her  eldest  son  executed  as  a  murderer ;  a  hardened 


wretch,  till  the  last  hour  :  the  only  hope  this,  tliat,  in  his 
rage  in  casting  himself  off,  the  rope  b*  oke,  and  lie  lived 
till  another  was  fetched, — perhaps  ten  minutes* — and 

*  I  believe,  at  his  own  earnest  request,  the  time  was  extended 
to  one  or  two  hours. 


430  FROM  TlIK  DISPOSAL  OP  HIS  IMULK,    [ChAP.   XV. 

seemed  (liirinp^  that  space  softened,  and  earnestly  crying 
for  mercy  :  yet  1  never  heard  from  her  lips  a  mnr?nnring 
word.  I  mention  these  thincrs  to  shew,  that  your  trial  is 
far  less  than  many  of  God's  most  heloved  children  have 
suffered  :  and  to  encourage  your  hope  that,  by  his  all  suf- 
ficient grace,  you  may  he  comforted  and  made  joyful,  not- 
withstanding ;  as  they  were. 

"  While  our  children  or  relations  live,  we   cannot  be 
too  earnest   in  seeking  their  salvation  ;  in  using    every 
means,  and  in  pouring  out  our  prayers  incessantly  for  it ; 
and  in  enforcing  all  by  our  example  :  but.  when  they  are 
removed,  as  our  duty,  and  our  ability  to  help  them  final- 
ly terminate,  our  sorrow  and  anxiety,  and  inquiries  about 
their  state,  must  be  unavailing,  and  are  very  apt  to  be  re- 
bellious.— If   conscious  of  having  done  what  we  could, 
upon  the  whole,  for  their  final  good  :  and  of  seeking  for 
them,  as  well  as  oui^elves,  first   the  kijigdojn  of  God 
(Hid his  7^iS!;hieousness  ;  this  should  be  asoiirceof  thank- 
fulness and  consolation.     If  conscious  of  having  neglect- 
ed our  duty,  we  are  called  on  deeply  to  repent  and  ear- 
nestly to  seek  forgiveness.    If  there  were  hopeful  tokens, 
we  should  be  thankful  for  these  ;  and  leave  the  rest  to 
God.     If  we  still  anxiously  inquire,  as  if  we  could  not 
submit,  without  some  further  assurance  of  their  happi- 
ness ;  we  shouid  consider  this  as  presumption  and  rebel- 
lion.    God  withholds,  and  submission  is  our  duty.  Jesus, 
as  it  were,  says,  What  is  that  to  thee  ?  follow  thou  me, 
— Shall  not  the  Judge  of  all  the  earth  do  right  P    May 
we  not  leave  them  to  his  tender  and  infinite  mercies  ? — 
But  these  considerations  should  excite  us  to  redoubled 
diligence  and  earnestness  about  those  who  are  still  with 
us.   Even  in  such  cases  as  those  of  Eli's  sons  and  Absalom, 
unreserved  submission  is  both  the  duty  and  the  wisdom 
of  the  deeply  ailiicted  sufferer.     I  can  only  add,  that 


1813 1821.]       TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  431 

you  must  watch  and  pray  against  inordinate  sorrow^  as 
your  sin  and  your  misery  ;  and  seek  for  resignation,  sub- 
mission, and  acquiescence  in  the  divine  appointment :  and 
never  cease  praying  for  this,  till  you  can  unreservedly 
say,  The  loillof  the  Lord  be  done  !  .  .  May  God  be  your 
comforter,  and  lift  up  the  light  of  his  countenance  upon 
yoU;  and  give  you  peace  !  .  . . 

I  remain,  your's  afFectionatelyy 

Thomas  Scott/' 

About  midsummer,  I  received  the  following  accounts 
of  him,  and  observations  from  him. 

From  my  sister.  ''  My  father  grows  very  infirm,  but 
becomes  more  heavenly  every  day.  It  is  a  privilege  to 
see  and  hear  him.  He  has  been  lately  attending  a  poor 
parishioner,  who  died  of  a  liver  complaint.  It  was  a 
very  painful  death,  as  to  bodily  suffering;  but  I  think 
the  most  blessed  and  encouraging  scene  I  ever  witnessed. 
Visiting  him  in  his  illness  has  been  quite  a  cordial  to  my 
dear  father ;  the  greatest  treat,  he  says,  he  has  enjoyed 
for  years." 

From  himself.  ^^  I  shall  never  see  many  of  my  grand 
children  ;  and  my  deafness  and  infirmity  spoil  all  the 
comfort  of  their  company,  when  I  do  see  any  of  them  : 
but  my  more  than  daily  prayers,  from  my  inmost  soul, 
are  presented  to  God  for  them,  that  they  may  be  blessed 
and  a  blessing  ;  in  whatever  place  and  family  they  may 
spend  their  future  lives." — "  One  advantage,  however, 
arises  from  our  occasional  meetings  ;  they  certainly  ex- 
cite me  to  more  particular  and  earnest  prayers  for  you  all, 
especially  for  your  spiritual  good." 

I  would  observe,  that  much  as  he  thought  his  company 
must  be  spoiled,  especially  to  young  persons,  by  his  in- 
firmities, I  always  found  it  otherwise  :   he  seemed  peculi 
arly  attractive  to  my  children,  even  to  very  young  ones ; 


432  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIRLEj  [CuAP.  XV. 

and  they  would  spend  as  much  time  with  him  as  could  be 
allowed. 

To  his  youngest  son  he  wrote  at  this  time, 
^•' June  14,  1818,  I  can  sympathize  with  you  in  your 
pains  of  teeth,  &c.  as  I  am  never  free  from  pains  of  the 
same  kind  ;  nor  shall  be  so  long  as  I  have  one  left ;  prob- 
ably not  then.  My  pain,  however,  is  not  very  acute; 
though  it  makes  eating  always  uncomfortable,  often  dis- 
tressing :  but  in  my  case  the  disease  is,  I  believe, incurable, 
and  merely  one  of  the  symptoms  of  decaying  nature  :  and 
ivhy should  a  living  inan  complain?  My  mercies  and 
my  sins,  are  both  numberless;  and  I  am  often  quite  asha- 
med of  my  impatience,  cowardice,  and  unthankfulness.  ... 
We  are  all  about  as  well  as  usual ;  and  I  have  much  more 
encouragement  in  my  ministry  at  this  place,  than  I  had 
some  time  back  :  considerable  good  seems  to  be  done. 
Let  us  then  strengthen  and  encourage  our  own  hearts, 
and  one  another's,  to  preserve  in  the  blessed  work  of  our 
Lord,  though  appearances  be  discouraging.  As  I  am 
soon  to  put  oiF  my  armour,  let  me  animate  ryou  to  gird  on 
yours  with  more  alacrity  ;  to  stir  up  the  gift  of  God  that 
is  in  you  ;  and  to  do  what  you  can.  Take  heed  to  your- 
self and  to  the  doctrine :  continue  in  them :  for  in  so 
doing  thou  shall  both  save  thyself  and  them  that 
hear  thee. — Give  our  united  love  to  dear  Anne,  and  the 
dear  children,  one  and  all.  May  God  bless  tlie?n.  and 
make  them  blessings  !  As  I  decrease^  may  you  and 
your  brothers  iiicrease  :  and  when  you  decrease,  may 
your  children  all  come  forward  and  increase,  in  one  way 
or  other  serving  the  Lord,  and  promoting  his  cause  in 
the  world  ;  and  this  from  generation  to  generation.  This 
is  the  daily  prayer  of  your  affectionate  father." 

Dr.  Chalmer's  Farewell  Address  to  the  Inhabitants  of 
Kilmany  having  excited  some  controversy,  in  certain  pe- 


1813 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  433 

riodical  publications,  on  account  of  the  manner  in  which 
it  presses  particular  practical  duties,  from  the  very  com- 
mencement of  a  serious  attention  to  religion,  without 
waiting  to  ascertain,  as  a  previous  question,  whether  the 
principles  of  faith  are  essablished  in  the  heart;  I  at  this 
period  called  my  father's  attention  to  it,  as  it  stands  re- 
viewed in  the  Christian  Observer,  for  October  1815; 
asking  if  he  did  not  think,  that  the  Address  was,  in  this 
respect,  nothing  more  than  expansion  of  such  a  passage 
as  Isaiah  i.  16 — 18,  and  thoroughly  scriptural  in  its  plan. 
His  answer  was  as  follows  : — "  I  think  the  way  in  which 
he  states  the  general  outline  of  his  argument,  both  for 
ministers  at  once  urging  on  the  conscience  the  necessity 
of  immediately  renouncing  known  sin,  and  setting  about 
known  duty  ;  and  for  their  hearers  honestly  complying 
with  their  exhortations,  and  in  that  way  waiting  for  fur- 
ther light  and  experience ;  is  strictly  scriptural :  far 
more  apostolical,  than  the  systematic  method  of  many 
modern  preq^ers,  who  seem  to  have  their  arms  pinion- 
ed when  they  would  thus  wield  the  sword  of  the  Spirit. 
It  has  always  been  my  plan,  and  I  was  animated  and  in- 
vigorated in  it,  by  his  statements." — He  remarks  upon 
some  particular  passages  :  but  this  is  his  view  of  the  drift 
and  main  argument  of  the  pamphlet,  and  he  concludes, 
''  His  actual  experiment  is  most  striking.'' 

Very  soon  after  this  I  paid  him  a  visit,  in  the  course  of 
which,  though  I  travelled  alone  myself,  more  of  his  fa- 
mily met  under  his  roof  than  had  been  collected  together 
for  many  yeai^.  The  occurrences  of  this  visit  will,  I  am 
persuaded,  be  thought  interesting  by  the  reader ;  though, 
in  order  to  avoid  too  much  interrupting  the  narrative, 
and  for  other  reasons,  a  principal  part  of  what  passed 
must  be  postponed  to  a  future  chapter.  A  large  party  of 
clergymen,  forming  a  private  society,  met  at  his  house, 

3  I 


434  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,   [ChAP.  XV. 

for  the  last  time  that  he  was  to  be  among  them.  He 
took  an  active  and  animated  part  in  their  communica- 
tions together,  and  bade  them  farewell  in  that  discourse, 
preached  in  his  church,  of  which  the  Rev.  D.  Wil- 
son has  given  the  outline  and  principal  passages  to  the 
public,  first  in  the  Christian  Observer,  for  May  1821, 
and  subsequently  annexed  to  the  third  edition  of  his 
funeral  sermons  preached  on  the  death  of  my  father. 
— A  Bible  Distribution  Meeting  was  shortly  after  held 
in  a  barn  at  Aston,  and  attended  by  about  four  hun- 
dred country  people,  though  it  was  in  the  midst  of  hay- 
time,  and  on  the  market  day  of  the  neighbouring  town. 
Here  also  my  father  took  his  leave  of  such  meetings  by  an 
address  to  the  people. 

But  the  principal  commmunication  which  I  shall  have 
to  make  in  this  work,  arose  as  follows.  So  many  of 
the  family  being  now  collected,  is  was  proposed  that 
we  should  spend  some  time  together,  in  conversing 
over  our  respective  histories  since  we  had  been  separat- 
ed— reviewing  "  all  the  way  which  the  Lord  had  led  us'^ 
— and  in  receiving  from  the  revered  head  of  our  fa- 
mily such  admonitions  and  instructions,  particularly  with 
regard  to  the  training  up  of  our  children,  as  it  should 
occur  10  him  to  address  to  us.  There  were  present 
my  father  and  mother,  three  of  his  own  children,  a 
son-in-law  and  a  daughter-in  law,  and  two  grand-sons. 
My  memorandum  of  what  passed  is  a  letter  to  my  ab- 
sent brother,  who  had  previously  been  with  us,  but 
could  not  prolong  his  stay.  The  particulars  will,  I  trust, 
answer  the  double  purpose  of  displaying  my  fathers  cha- 
racter  and  principles,  and  instructing  many  readers:  but 
a  more  suitable  place  for  their  insertion  will  be  found 
hereafter.  Here,  therefore,  I  shall  only  further  remark, 
that  on  this  occasion  my  father  uttered  the  memorable 


1813—1821.]         TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  435 

sentence,  which  has  already  been  given  to  the  public  in 
his  obituary  :  ^^  On  the  whole,  I  cannot  but  feel  and  con- 
sider myself  as  a  man  that  has  been  peculiarly  prospered 
of  God  ;  and  I  desire  to  acknowledge  this  with  humble 
and  devout  gratitude.  Yes,  goodness  and  mercy  have 
followed  me  all  the  days  of  my  life.  Whatever  my  feel- 
ings may  at  any  time  be, — and  my  situation  and  infirmi- 
ties, and  perhaps  also  my  turn  of  mind,  expose  me,  at  times, 
to  considerable  gloom  and  depression — I  have  not  all  that 
enjoyment  which  I  could  earnestly  desire — yet  this  is 
MY  DELIBERATE  JUDGMENT.  Yea  and,  on  the  whole,  I 
can  add  with  good  confidence,  not  only  they  have  fol- 
lowed, but  goodness  and  mercy  shall  fdlow  me  all  the 
days  of  my  lifer  and  I  shall  dwell  in  the  house  of  the  Lord 
for  et'er." — At  this  time  also  was  recalled  to  mind  a  sen- 
tence which  had  fallen  from  him  a  few  daysbefore,  "  That, 
on  the  whole,  there  were  few  of  his  contemporaries, 
whose  usefulness  he  could  consent  to  exchange  for  that, 
with  which  it  had  pleased  God  to  favour  him."  This  sen- 
tence was  the  more  striking,  from  the  recollection  of  what 
1  had  often  heard  him  remark,  that  that  clause  of  the  first 
Psalm — Whatsoever  he  doeth  shall  prosper — had  fre- 
quently given  him  much  pain,  when  he  compared  with  it 
the  failure  and  disappointment  of  so  many  of  his  attempts 
to  do  good.  In  all  such  cases  we  must  remember  what  is 
written  :  "  Surely  there  is  an  end,  and  thine  expectation 
shall  not  be  cut  off.''  We  must  not  pronounce  upon  un- 
finished ivork.  In  waiting  for  the  day  which  "  shall  de- 
clare" the  result  of  things — "  here  is  the  patience  and 
ihe  faith  of  the  saints." 

As  an  additional  instance  of  probable  usefulness,  he 
had,  about  this  time,  the  satisfaction  of  hearing,  that  his 
^  Force  of  Truth,'  translated  into  French,  was  widely 
circulating  on  the  continent.    It  had  been  translated  into 


436  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,  [ChAP.  XV. 

Dutch  many  years  before,  and  printed  at  Amsterdam  in 
1786. 

I  meet  with  nothing  further  that  is  memorable  till 
November  the  third,  of  this  year,  (1818,)  when  he 
wrote  the  last  letter,  which  I  shall  have  to  present,  to  his 
now  aged  and  afliicted  sister,  Mrs.  Webster.  It  exhi- 
bits on  interesting  proof  of  his  own  "  growth  in  grace," 
and  of  his  zeal  to  strengthen  the  hands  of  a  beloved  fel- 
low sufferer. 

"  I  find,'^  he  says,  "  in  my  own  case,  though  in  many 
respects  surrounded  with  uncommon  mercies,  that  I  have 
great  need  of  patience,  amidst  infirmities,  and  pains,  and, 
worse  than  all,  temptations,  and  conflicts  with  the  re- 
mainder (I  hope  only  the  remainder)  of  indwelling  sin : 
so  that  I  am  often  disposed  to  dejection,  and  consequent- 
ly to  impatience  and  unthankful ness,  and  sometimes 
peevishness.  Yet,  on  the  whole,  I  think  my  trials  and 
conflicts  quicken  me  in  prayer  :  endear  the  Saviour  and 
salvation  to  me  ;  render  me  more  tender  and  compassion- 
ate to  others,  when  suff*ering  and  tempted  ;  bring  me 
more  acquainted  with  the  promises  and  engagements  of 
the  new  covenant ;  and  lead  me  to  rely  on  them  more 
simply  and  unreservedly,  notwithstanding  difiiculties  and 
discouragements.  As  Mr.  Newton  once  said  to  an  in- 
quirer, '  I  think  I  am  somewhat  poorer  than  I  was.' 
And,  while  I  encourage  myself  in  this  way  in  the  Lord 
my  God,  and  hope,  in  opposition  to  my  feelings,  (as  if 
all  were  against  me,)  that  all  is  working  together  for 
my  good;  what  can  I  say  more  appropriate  to  animate, 
counsel,  and  solace  you  ?  You  have  trials  indeed,  which 
I  have  not  :  but  the  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness. 
However,  without  determining  any  thing  in  that  respect, 
nay,  supposing  your's  ten  times  the  greater,  the  dif- 
ference is  nothing  to  the  Almighty  Saviour,  whose  strength 


1813 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  437 

is  perfected  in  our  weakness.  Trust  in  him  :  submit : 
call  npon  him  :  wait  for  him.  Persevere  in  endeavour- 
ing to  win  over  all  around  you^  to  say,  We  will  go  with 
you,  for  God  is  with  you,  I  hope  I  do  not  forget  you 
daily  in  my  prayers,  or  any  of  yours.  Pray  for  me  and 
mine.'^ 

The  accounts  of  his  infirmities  and  of  his  labours, — such 
labours  as  would  be  found  too  great  for  most  men  in  sound 
health,  go  hand  in  hand  together. 

He  writes,  December  10,  1818:  ^^  Preparing  copy, 
five  sheets  (forty  quarto  pages)  a  week,  and  correcting 
proofs,  together  with  the  desire  of  the  partners  to  have 
the  Concordance  carried  on,  purposing  ere  very  long  to 
begin  to  print  it,  (as  much  approving  the  plan  of  a  revis- 
ed specimen  which  I  sent,)  makes  me  shrink  unduly  from 
letter- writing.  /  never  studied  each  day  more  hours  than 
Inow  do.^^ 

"  February  18,  1819.  Never  was  a  manufactory  more 
full  of  constant  employment,  than  our  house  :  five  proofs 
a  week  to  correct,  and  as  many  sheets  of  copy  to  prepare: 

and,  alas  1  Mr.  seems  to  stand  his  part,  as  to  health, 

worse  than  I  do.  The  first  volume  is  nearly  finished, 
and  I  hope  much  improved  :  yet  I  feel  more  and  more 
dissatisfied,  as  discerning  more  and  more  the  defects. 
What  1  have  lately  been  finishing  off,  as  to  the  Concord- 
ance, is  fully  approved  :  but  I  can  do  so  little  now,  that  I 

fear  it  will  never  be  finished 

"  So  I  have  lived  to  enter  on  my  seventy- third  year, 
which  I  never  expected  ;  and  am  still  able  to  study 
and  preach.  May  it  be  to  good  purpose  !  My  feel- 
ings are  often  very  uneasy  :  but  I  am  free  from  great  and 
sharp  suffering.  Pray  for  me,  that  I  may  be  patient  and 
ready." 

April  23,  1819,  to  his  youngest  son  : — ^«  Just  when  I 


438  FHOxM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BlliLE,   [ChAP.  XV. 

was  tliinking  to  answer  yon.  I  was  seized  with  a  severe 
cold,  which,  after  some  variations,  at  length,  on  the  first 
of  this  month,  hroiight  on  a  fever  :  and  it  proved  a  more 
sharp  attack  than  I  have  had  for  some  years.  Nearly  a 
week  I  was  so  far  confined  to  my  bed  as  to  do  nothing. 
Two  Sundays  I  was  disabled  from  preaching  :  and  last 
Sunday,  with  great  difliculty,  I  performed  one  service. 
I  have  also  recovered  hitherto  very  slowly,  and  am 
continually  harassed  by  sickness;  so  that  I  neither  have 
appetite  for  food,  nor  take  any  without  fear  of  very  un- 
easy consequences.  Yet,  I  have  gradually  been  restored 
to  my  usual  ability  of  studying,  and  fill  up  my  hours  nearly 
as  before ;  but  with  increasing  debility  and  weariness. 
This,  indeed,  must  be  expected  in  my  seventy-third  year, 
and  I  would  not  comydain  ;  iov  surely  goodness  and  mercy 

have  followed  ine  all  my  days Biit,  besides  sickness, 

my  employments  are  a  more  full  excuse  for  not  writing 
letters,  than  most  have.  Four  or  fiv^c  proof  sheets  every 
week  :  on  an  average,  each  costs  one  or  other  of  us  six 
hours  revising:  this  besides  preparing  an  equal  quantity 
of  copy,  and  other  engagements.  One,  in  Psalms,  that 
arrived  last  night,  has  taken  me  up  already  almost  four 
hours,  and  will  take  up  others  of  us  above  three  hours 
more.  But  it  is  a  good,  and  even  pleasant  employment, 
and  I  rejoice  in  it. — Sickness  has  been  very  prevalent  in 
this  neighbourhood,  especially  typhus  fever  :  several  have 

died Our  little  village  has  been  preserved  from  it. 

Some  of  the  inhabitants  appear  more  hopeful  than  they 
were,  and  the  congregations,  as  well  as  several  instances, 
I  liope,  of  conversion,  have  been  much  more  encouraging 
than  for  several  years  last  past :  but  what  will  take  place 
when  I  am  removed  or  laid  aside,  I  cannot  say.  Many 
will,  I  fear,  turn  dissenters;  and  our  diss*:  nters  are  not  of 
the  best  sort.     But  I  must  commit  the  whole  to  the  Lord, 


1813 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  439 

Establish  thou  the  ivork  of  our  hands,  yea,  the  work  of 

our  hands  establish  thou  it ! I  would  not  have 

you  to  yield  to  depression  about  your  public  labours.  If 
discouragement  lead  you  to  more  fervent  prayer,  and  to 
devise,  if  you  can,  more  decided  means  of  coming  at  the 
heart  and  conscience  ;  if  you  take  heed  to  yourself  and 
doctrine,  and  continue  in  them;  your  labour  will  not  be 
in  vain.  You  may  toil  all  night,  and  take  nothing,  but 
after  a  time  you  shall  have  better  success.  It  seems  that 
Harborough  is  your  present  place  :  I  should,  indeed,  re 

joice,  if  a  more  permanent  station  were  allotted  you 

Remember,  however,  how  much  better  it  is  to  do  a  littlf^ 
good,  substantial  good,  than,  by  smooth  and  false  doctrine, 
to  obtain  crowded  congregations,  and  do  them  mischief. 
Proper  means,  indeed,  should  be  used  to  bring  forth  your 
parishioners ;  and  perhaps  a  short  printed  address  to  them, 
solemn,  faithful,  affectionate,  might  be  blessed.  But  our 
usefulness  does  by  no  means  depend  on  crowded  congre- 
gations ;  nor  is  it  at  all  proportioned  to  them.  Regene- 
ration and  conversion  must  be  individual:  and,  even  if 
one  in  ten  of  those  who  do  attend  should,  by  God's  spe- 
cial grace,  be  quickened  from  the  death  of  sin,  within  two 
or  three  years  ;  these  will  help  by  their  example,  influ- 
ence, and  prayers,  and  prove  instruments  of  bringing  forth 
others.  Uniformly,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  my  usefulness,  as 
a  preacher,  has  been  greatest,  where  my  congregetions 
have  been  small  and  discouraging  :  and  great  depression 
about  my  work  has  preceded  success.  Wait;  and  pray, 
and  hope  :  be  steadfast,  immoveable,  Src.^^ 

A  small  contribution  to  a  letter  dated  August  12,  exhi- 
bits him  thus  bearing  up  against  depressing  circumstan- 
ces and  painful  feelings. 

"  Several  events  which  have  lately  occurred,  and  many 
things  respecting  others  in  the  neighbourhood,  concur 


440  lliOM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,    [ChAP.  XV. 

with  my  own  rather  dejected  feelings,  to  render  rae 
more  niclancholy  just  now  than  usual.  But  ivky  art  thou 
so  heavjj^  O  my  soul  P  and  why  art  thou  so  disquieted 
ivithin  me  9  Hope  still  in  God^  for  I  shall  yet  praise 
him. — Hitherto  he  hath  helped  us.  May  he  help  us  to 
thank  him,  suhmit  to  him,  and  trust  him  !" 

DccemherG,  1819  ;  he  thus  expresses  his  opinion  on  a 
suhject  which  has  of  late  drawn  a  considerable  share  of 
public  attention,  and  will  probably,  if  the  measures,  which 
have  been  adopted  in  certain  quarters,  should  be  persis- 
ted in,  draw  still  more. 

^'  In  general,  it  appears  to  me,  that  the  laws  lately 
made  have  changed  the  episcopal  executive  power,  into 
a  legislative  one,  without  parliament  being  at  all  aware  of 
it ;  and  that  it  would  be  well  if  some  fully- considered, 
judicious,  and  calm  attempt,  of  an  enlarged  kind,  could 
be  made  to  state  the  case  fairly  to  the  different  members 
of  the  legislature.  But  I  consider  it  as  by  no  means 
exclusively  the  cause  of  the  curates :  for  it  might  be  so 
acted  upon  in  respect  of  conscientious  incumbents,  as  to 
drive  them  into  the  dilemma  of  either  resigning  their  liv- 
ings, or  retaining  their  incomes  and  responsibity,  while 
they  could  do  nothing  to  answer  that  responsibility  ;  nay, 
must  witness  those  ofliciating  as  their  curates,  who  at- 
tempted to  destroy  the  fruits  of  their  labours,  and  poi- 
son their  flocks.  This  might  be  my  case,  if  I  should  live 
till  quite  disabled  for  service. — The  very  title  of  '  The 
Curate's  appeal'  seems  to  be  exceptionable  ;  as  if  curates 
alone  were  concerned  :  whereas  it  is  a  common  concern 
of  all  who  are  under  episcopal  jurisdiction,  and  should 
be  taken  up  as  such,  if  at  all." 

With  this  extract  we  may  not  improperly  connect  ano- 
ther, from  a  letter  which  he  wrote  in  1815,  to  a  young 
clergyman  of  high  respectability?  who  was  refused  priests' 


1813 1821.]        TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  441 

orders^  on  grounds  which  the  extract  itself  will  sufficient- 
ly explain.  I  the  rather  insert  it,  because,  while  other 
passages,  which  have  been  introduced,  demonstrate  liim 
to  have  been  a  strenuous  advocate  for  submission  to  autho- 
rity, this  will  shew  what  limits  he  fixed,  on  one  side^  at 
least,  to  that  duty. 

^^  I  am  indeed  overdone  with  stated  and   occasional 

engagements,  and  especially  at   present But  your 

case  is  one  that  must,  in  some  measure,  be  attended  to, 
and  without  further  delay.     It  is  a  common  cause 

"  I  and  my  brethren,  with  whom  I  have  talked  over 
the  subject,  are  decidedly  of  opinion  that  you  ought  by 
no  means  to  quit  your  curacy,  unless  you  are  compelled 
to  do  it ;  but  to  go  on  v^^ith  your  ministry,  as  a  deacon, 
in  the  manner  you  before  did. .  .  .  By  all  means  stand  firm, 
and  let  the  bishop*  by  a  direct  act  of  authority?  turn  you 
out,  and  then  the  real  ground  of  it  may  be  more  clearly 
stated  and  ascertained.     I  need  hardly  say,  that  his  re- 
quiring you  to  sign  his  explanation  was,   ipso  facto,  to 
make  a  new  article  by  his  own  single  authority,  and  to 
require,  not  the  subscription  legally  to  be  required,  but 
owe  oi\itv  illegal ;  and  which,  if  admitted,  and   tacitly 
yielded  to,  may  become  a  precedent,  and   convert   our 
limited  government  (limited  in  church  as  well  as  state,) 
into  an  arbitrary  and  tyrannical  one.  Every  bishop  may, 
by  the  same  rule,  put  his  own  construction  on  any  article, 
or  clause  of  an  article.     A  man  may  be  required  to  sign 
one  set  of  articles  when  ordained  deacon,  another  when 
ordained  priest,  another  when  instituded,  &c.    No  autho- 
rity but  that  of  an  act  of  parliament  can  give  any  bishop 
a  right  thus  to  add  to  the  articles  to  be  subscribed  :  and, 
however  meekly  and    politely  it  be  done — suaviter  in 
modo,  yet  for  titer  in  re — his  lordship  must  be   shewn 
that  you  understand  it  in  this  light ;  and  that  the  public 

3K 


•* 


442  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,    [ChAP.  XV. 

must  be  informed  of  the  transaction  in  this  view  of  it,  if 
coercive  measures  be  resorted  to.  .  .  .  No  matter  what 
the  i\ew  article  is,  however  unexceptionable  :  the  impo- 
sing of  it  is  an  act  of  illegal  assumption  of  authority. 
The  apostle's  conduct,  in  respect  of  the  magistrates  at 
Philij)i)i,  shews,  that  it  is  perfectly  consistent  with  Chris- 
tian meekness  to  stand  up  for  the  law  of  our  country, 
against  those,  who,  professing  to  administer  it,  act  in  di- 
rect violation  of  it.  And  Mr.  Gisborne's  late  letter  to 
the  Bishop  of  Gloucester,  respecting  the  Bible  Society, 
shews,  that  the  authority  of  a  diocesan  is  subject  to  legal 

limitations,  as  well  as  that  of  a  magistrate 1  cannot 

be  sorry  that  a  case  of  this  kind  is  likely  to  come  to  some 
public  decision ;  that  it  may  be  known  what  our  superi- 
ors can,  and  what  they  cannot  legally  require  :  and  I  am 
satisfied,  that,  if,  to  the  meekness  and  discretion  already 
shewn,  you  add  Christian  fortitude  and  patience,  it  will 
terminate  to  you  also  creditably  and  comfortably.  May 
God  direct,  strengthen,  and  bless  you  V^ 

Another  death  occurred  in  the  family  near  the  end  of 
this  year — that  of  my  (own)  mother's  sister,  who  was  also 
united  to  us  by  additional  ties.  Her  husband,  to  whom 
several  letters  inserted  in  the  earlier  parts  of  this  work 
were  addressed,  had  died  likewise  within  the  period  of 
this  chapter,  in  1815. 

On  the  present  occasion  my  father  writes — 
^^  December  9,  1819.  Your  account  of  Mrs.  E.  is 
consoling,  and  I  desire  to  be  very  thankful.  I  think  she 
was  about  my  age.  Your  nncle  in  his  eighty-sixth  yearcon- 
tinues  nearly  as  usual  !  but  my  infirmities  grow  upon  nie, 
though  gradually,  and  I  cannot  expect  to  continue  long. 
Pray  that  God  may  give  me  stronger  faith,  more  lively 
hope,  and  more  patient  resignation  ;  for  I  am  grievously 


1813 1821.]        TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  443 

deficient.  I  am  as  fully  employed,  however,  as  ever  : 
and  besides  all  the  rest,  I  have  undertaken  to  manufac- 
ture a  shorter  hook  from  my  answer  to  Paine.  The  new 
edition  of  the  Bible  is  my  main  work  :  we  are  now  in 
Isaiah  :  but  I  fear  my  Index  and  Concordance  will,  after 
all,  come  to  nothing,  fori  have  now  no  time  for  it." 

Deaths,  as  I  admonished  the  reader  to  expect,  crowd 
upon  us  in  the  progress  of  this  chapter.  The  events 
which  I  have  now  to  record  are  all  of  that  nature.  The 
next  was  one  in  which  the  nation  sympathized,  though 
not  with  that  pang  of  anguish  and  disappoint^nent  which 
it  had  felt  for  the  loss  of  the  Princess.  I  find  it  thus  ad- 
verted to  in  a  letter  dated  February  17,  1820. 

"  Your  father  was  enabled  yesterday  (his  birth-day,) 
to  preach  a  most  suitable  and,  I  think,  admirable  sermon 
on  the  dear  old  king,  from  Psalm  xxxix.  5,  which  seem- 
ed to  give   much  satisfaction,  except  to .     The  last 

head  of  the  discourse  was  on  the  duties  to  which  we  are 
called  in  the  present  state  of  things  ;  in  which,  speak- 
ing of  the  evil  of  coalescing  with  blasphemers  and  infi- 
dels, he  observed,  that  he  thought  almost  all  the  truly 
pious,  among  dissenters  as  well  as  churchmen,  would 
stand  aloof  from  such  characters  ;  and  mentioned  with 
much  approbation  the  speech  of  Mr.  Hinton,  at  the  Ox- 
ford meeting,  and  the  protest  made  by  the  Wesleyau 
Methodists.  The  church  was  very  full,  and  the  people 
very  attentive.'' 

The  death  of  my  father's  aged  and,  "for  very  many 
years  past,  only  brother,  immediately  followed.  My 
sister  adverting  to  it  observes,  (March  8th,)  "  The  same 
letter  which  brought  this  account,  seems  to  indicate  that 
my  aunt  Webster  can  last  but  a  very  short  time  longer. 
— ^This  breaking  up  of  the  family  affects  me  deeply,  as 
it  seems  to  bring  nearer  to  my  view  that  dreadful  stroke, 


444  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,   [ChAP.  XV. 

which  we  cannot  hope  very  long  to  escape,  and  for  which 
my  mind  is  notwithstanding  wholly  unprepared.  The 
last  time  I  saw  our  beloved  father,  he  said  to  me  with 
peculiar  emphasis,  *  You  must  try  to  wean  yourself 
from  me  :  I  shall  not,  I  cannot  be  with  you  long :  it  is 
cruel  to  pray  for  my  life.'^' 

Within  little  more  than  a  month,  this  anticipation  res- 
pecting Mrs.  W.  was  realized.  My  father  wrote  to 
her  son,  April  7th  : 

"  Your  account  of  your  mother  is  in  one  view  very 
grievous,  but  in  another  highly  consolatory,  and  suited 
to  excite  gratitude.  1  hope  ere  this  she  is  somewhat  re- 
lieved and  recovered :  though  neither  of  us  can  expect 
more  than  mitigations  and  alleviations.  I  need  hardly 
add,  that,  as  far  as  my  constant  prayers  avail  for  her  sup- 
port, comfort,  and  blessedness,  she  has,  and  long  has  had 
them  ;  as  well  as  you  and  your  family.  Give  my  best 
love  to  her,  and  assure  her  of  this.  It  is  all  I  can  do.  I 
hope  we  shall  ere  long  meet  in  a  world,  where  sickness 
and  sorrow  will  be  no  more,  because  sin  will  be  forevei' 
excluded 

^*  P.  S.  Pray  for  me ;  not  that  I  may  live,  but  that 
my  faith,  hope,  love,  and  patience,  &c.,  may  be  invigo- 
rated, and  that  I  may  finish  my  course  with  joy." 

And  again,  on  the  22d  of  the  same  month,  as  follows  ; 

"  When  I  received  yours,  I  was  just  beginning  to  re- 
cover from  a  rather  dangerous  attack  of  sore  throat  and 
fever,  which  reduced  me  so  much,  that  I  fully  expected 
to  have  been  delivered  from  the  burden  of  the  flesh  be- 
fore my  suffering  sister.  Two  Sundays  I  have  f)een  si- 
lent :  I  mean  to  try  to  preach  once  to-morrow,  but  feel 
very  incompetent;  and  am  convinced  my  work  is  nearly 
done.  I  am,  however,  now  left,  beyond  all  prohability, 
the  only  survivor  of  our  once  numerous  family — tottering 


1813 — 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  445 

on  the  brink  of  the  grave.  So  soon  passeth  it  away,  and 
we  are  gone.  Oh  that  I  could  adopt  St.  Paul's  words 
under  all — JVone  of  these  things  move  me,  &c.  :  but, 
alas  !  I  am  like  an  old  vessel,  shattered  by  many  storms, 
and  now  scarcely  able  to  stand  a  moderate  gale  of  wind. 
Pray  for  me,  that  I  may  have  more  faith,  hope,  longing 
love,  patience,  submission,  meekness,  &c. 

^*'  After  what  you  wrote  of  your  dear  mother's  suffer- 
ings, in  your  former  letter  ;  and  after  reading  the  contents 
of  your  late  letter  ;  however  nature  may  feel,  I  cannot,  in 
my  judgment,  but  consider  her  release  as  a  matter  of 
thankfulness  :  and  it  is  highly  refreshing  to  learn,  how 
the  Lord  prepared  her  before  he  took  her  hence.  In  her 
case,  I  trust  all  is  well.  May  her  words  be  remember- 
ed by  you,  and  the  prayers,  which  she  offered  while  with 
you,  be  abundantly  answered  to  you  and  yours  1" 

At  this  period,  I  received  a  letter  from  Aston  :  but  the 
only  insertion  which  it  contained  from  my  father's  hand 
was  in  these  words,  ^^Only  be  of  good  courage,  man  !" 
They  related  to  a  sermon  which  I  was  preparing  to 
preach  before  the  Prayer  Book  and  Homily  Society.  I 
give  them  as  characteristic.  Thus  did  he  persevere, 
even  when  weighed  dovvn  and  drooping  himself,  in  ani- 
mating others  to  zeal  and  boldness  in  the  service  of  his 
great  master. 

The  sermon  just  alluded  to  brought  me  into  the  south 
about  this  time,  and  afforded  the  opportunity  of  taking  two 
of  my  daughters  to  visit  their  grandfather  and  other  re- 
latives. I  shall  insert  two  short  extracts  from  letters  re- 
ceived from  one  of  them,  who  did  not  reach  Aston  till 
after  my  own  return  to  Hull. 

^^  Aston,  June  17,  1820.  We  came  hitlier  on  Thurs- 
day. We  found  all  pretty  well  :  but  I  was  very  sorry 
and  surprised  to  see  the  alteration  which  has  taken  place 


446  FROM    VDK  DISPOSAL  OF  IIIS  BIBLE,    [ChAP.  XV. 

ill  my  dear  grandpapa's  looks  since  I  last  saw  him.  My 
aunt  had  told  inc  I  should  see  a  great  difference ;  hut  I 
did  not  suppose  it  would  he  near  so  great.  This,  with 
the  ruinous  appearance  of  the  house,*  seemed  to  make  a 
melancholy  impression  upon  me  at  first.  I  thought  every 
place  looked  altered,  and  appeared  gloomy ;  though  now 
that  I  have  heen  here  a  day  or  two,  it  does  not  appearnear 
so  much  so.'' 

'^  Aston,  June  29,  1820.  My  grandpapa  is  but  poorly, 
though  I  think  not  much  worse  than  usual.  It  is  aston- 
ishing that  he  bears  the  heat  so  well  as  he  does.  [The 
thermometer  was  from  84  to  86  in  the  middle  of  the  day.] 
He  still  works  in  the  garden  every  day  after  dinner^ 
when  it  is  hotter  than  at  any  other  time,  and  does 
not  complain  much  of  it.  He  preaches  with  great  ani- 
mation, though  he  often  seems  scarcely  able  to  speak  be- 
fore he  goes  into  the  pulpit :  but,  when  he  begins  his  ser- 
mon, he  seems  so  taken  up  with  it,  that  he  appears  to  for- 
get his  fatigue,  and  every  thing  else  but  his  subject." 

The  parting  scene  with  these  two  girls,  which  proved 
final  as  far  as  their  grandfather  w^as  concerned,  was  very 
striking.  I  wish  it  were  in  my  power  to  state  more  par- 
ticularly what  passed  :  but  a  short  extract  of  a  letter,  writ- 
ten a  few  days  after,  from  Aston,  to  my  sister,  is  the  only 
memorandum  I  have  upon  the  subject. 

'^  Our  Hull  guests  left  us  last  Friday.  (July  28.)  The 
dear  girls  were  almost  broken-hearted  on  the  occasion  : 
and  the  study,  the  morning  of  their  departure,  might 
justly  be  called  Bochim.-f  The  script«ire  that  came  in 
order  happened  to  be  Jacob's  blessing  his  grand-child- 
ren !   (Heb.  xi.  21,  &c.)     Your  father  could  hardly  pro- 

*  This  will  be  explained  in  the  next  Letter,  of  September  21, 
t  Judg-es  ii. 


1813 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  44?\ 

ceed  :  and  we  all  wept  abundantly.  He  said^  except  his 
own  children^  he  never  was  so  affected  at  parting  with  any 
before.^' 

In  the  autumn  of  the  same  year  I  was  enabled  to  take 
my  wife,  two  others  of  my  daughters,  and  my  two  sons, 
to  pay  him  their  last  visit.  Here  too  the  parting  was 
most  affecting,  while,  laying  his  hands  upon  the  heads 
of  the  children,  he  poured  forth  his  benedictions  and 
prayers  over  them,  and,  sobbing  aloud,  repeated  the 
words,  "  One  generation  goeth,  and  another  cometh^^^ 
and  added,  "  but  the  one  point  of  importance  is,  whither 
we  go  !" 

For  a  brief  account  of  what  followed  our  departure,  I 
was  indebted  to  my  sister. 

"  October  10,  1820.  Our  dear  father  appeared  much 
affected,  and  looked  deplorably  ill  after  he  parted  with 
you  all  :  but  he  revived  in  the  evening,  and  was  better 
than  I  expected  to  see  him.  He  said  to  me,  '  Well,  this 
day  is  over  :  a  day  I  have  looked  forward  to  with  much 
dread,  and  I  cannot  but  feel  thankful  that  it  is.^ — His  feel- 
ings of  a  kind  and  tender  nature  seem  to  become  more 
acute,  while  all  those  of  an  angry  and  harsh  kind  seem 
nearly  dead.  This  strikes  me  more  and  more  every  time 
I  see  him  ;  and,  as  I  believe  the  contrary  is  the  natural 
effect  of  old  age  and  disease,  the  influence  of  religion  ap- 
pears the  more  evident.'' 

What  is  here  described  was  indeed  true  to  an  extra- 
ordinary degree  concerning  my  dear  father.  It  had  long- 
been  delightful  to  observe  how  every  thing,  which  might 
once  have  appeared  harsh  or  rugged  in  his  natural  tem- 
per, had  almost  entirely  melted  away  :  and  now,  at  this 
late  period,  it  was  deeply  affecting  to  observe,  how,  if  he 
had  dropped  a  word  that  seemed  to  himself  (others  per- 
haps had  not  perceived  it, )  impatient,  or  suited  to  wound 


148  FKOAI  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLK,  [ChAP.  XV. 

the  feelings  of  any  one,  though  ever  to  slightly,  he  would 
presently,  with  teal's  stealing  down  his  cheeks,  give  his 
hand  to  the  party  concerned,  and  ask  forgiveness. 

Immediately  after  I  left  him,  he  wrote  to  his  nephew, 
the  Rev.  T.  Webster,  a  letter  on  which  Mr.  W.,  in 
handing  it  to  me,  makes  the  remark,  '^  Considering  my 
obligations  to  him,  the  occasio7i\\aiS  utterly  unworthy  such 
notice  :  I  only  send  this  as  the  fast  letter  received  from 
him."'  The  reader  will,  I  trust,  think  with  me.  that  it 
contains  such  a  picture  of  the  writer's  mind  as  ought  not 
to  have  been  kept  back. 

The  fact  was  this  :  Mr.  W.  had  visited  him,  and,  find- 
ing him  unavoidably  engaged  in  expensive  repairs  of  his 
parsonage  house,  had  left  in  his  study  a  very  affectionate 
note,  enclosing  10/.  towards  the  charge.  My  father  had 
delayed  to  acknowledged  this,  till  he  felt  pained  and  mor- 
tified at  his  own  neglect.  At  length,  however,  he  wrote, 

^'  September  21,  1820.  You  must  no  doubt  have  for 
some  time  regarded  me  as  greatly  deficient  in  gratitude, 
love,  or  attention,  in  not  noticing  the  kind  note  and  lib- 
eral enclosure  which  you  left  on  my  mantle-shelf:  and  I 
am  conscious  that  I  have  been  faulty,  though  not  from 
want  of  affection  and  gratitude  ;  as  my  constant  prayers 

for  you  and  all  your's  will  at  length  testify How 

1  have  felt  and  do  feel,  you  will  know  better,  should  you 
live  to  your  seventy  fouith  year;  or  to  be  as  much  of  a 
bruised  reed  in  th-t  respect  [as  to  infirmities,  &c.]  as  I 
am. — You  and  yours  had  before  a  place  in  my  daily 
prayers,  as  near  relations,  and  you  as  a  minister :  but  you 
have  now  a  place  in  them  as  one  of  my  benefactors,  into 
whose  heart  (iod  has  put  it  to  be  kind  to  me  for  his  name's 
sake.  (Phil.  iv.  14,  17,  18.)— The  expences  of  my  re- 
pairing,  or  almost  re  founding  my  house  will  be  consid- 
erable :  but  I  have  some  hope,  as  one  consequence  of  it, 


1813 1821.]       TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  449 

that  by  means  of  the  instructions  he  has  received  at  As- 
ton, one  of  the  persons  employed  has  been  led  to  discover, 
that  his  own  soul  was  built  on  a  still  worse  foundation  than 
my  house  ;  and  induced  to  build  on  a  tried  and  approved 
one.  If  not  disappointed  in  this,  I  shall  have  a  rich 
amends. — My  infirmities  so  increase  upon  me,  that  I  have 
not  lately  been  able  to  officiate  more  than  once  on  the 
Lord's  day ;  and  I  have  many  doubts  whether  I  shall  be 
able  to  continue  even  that  long.     My  son  John  has  been 

with  me  three  Sundays He  and  his,  left  us  with 

many  tears  on  both  sides,  the  other  day. — I  am  very  de- 
sirous, if  it  could  be  done,  to  have  some  assistance,  that 
my  little  flock  might  still  be  fed  ;  and  especially  that,  at 
times  when  I  can  do  nothing,  they  might  not  be  quite  as 
sheep  without  a  shepherd:  but  hitherto  I  can  form  no 

plan,  so  as  to  succeed  in  it Mav  God  bless  you, 

in  your  soul,  and  in  your  ministry,  and  in  your  family, 
and  to  your  pu:uls,  and  in  all  temporal  things,  in  subser- 
viency to  his  spiritual  blessings  V' 

The  following  is  an  extract  of  a  letter,  which  I  soon  af- 
ter received  from  him  : 

('  October  27,  1820.  I  have  lately  received  several 
numbers  of  the  '  Sailor's  Magazine.'  It  is  surprising  to 
what  extent  the  endeavours  to  excite  a  religious  spirit 
among  sailors  are  carried :  and,  though  there  are  many 
things  that  might  be  deemed  wrong,  and  blundering,  so 
to  speak,  and  a  measure  of  enthusiasm,  especially  as  to 
conversions,  yet  there  seems  nothing  antmomian  ov  see- 
tarian  ;  and  I  cannot  but  think  that  God  is  blessing,  and 
will  bless  the  endeavours  ;  and  I  feel  more  excited  to  pray 
for  this  hitherto  neglected  description  of  our  fellow-sin- 
ners, than  formerly. — I  have  sent  the  Committee  a  letter, 
and  a  small  subscription.'' 

ft.  is  observable  that  the  latest  letter  I  have  seen  of  his 

3L 


430  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS   BIBLE,     [CllAP.   XV. 

writing,  and  T  have  reason  to  believe  it  the  last  he  ever 
wrote,  (for  it  is  dated  March  6th,  after  his  last  illness 
commenced,)  relates  to  this  subject.  It  is  to  his  book- 
seller, Mr.  Seeley,  desiring  that  he  would  send  him, 
among  other  things,  the  subsequent  numbers  of  the  "  Sai- 
lor's Magazine,''  in  which  he  evidently  still  felt  much 
interested. 

On  the  day  after  the  letter  just  inserted,  he  wrote  to 
the  Rev.  D.  Wilson,  concerning  a  paper  which  he  had 
drawn  up  on  the  subject  of  final  perseverance,  and  concern- 
ing the  notes  which  Mr.  W.  had  taken  of  one  or  two  of 
his  later  sermons.  He  says  "  I  can  have  no  objection  to 
the  insertion  in  the  Christian  Observer  of  any  notes  you 
made  of  the  sermon  you  refer  to.  In  fact,  I  think  such 
notes  of  several  of  nsy  later  sermons  would  be  far  prefer- 
able to  the  general  sermons  which  I  have  published  :  but 
I  cannot  take  them  ;  and  it  would  not  do  for  them  to  come 
from  me  :  I  am  a  very  unpopular  writer  of  sermons.  .  .  . 

"  As  to  the  Concordance,  it  is  adjourned  sine  die.  Af- 
ter years  of  labour,  and  considerable  expence,  I  relin- 
quished it,  that  I  might  attend  to  what  appeared  to  me 
more  direcily  the  improvement  of  my  talent,  and  the  use 
of  my  few  remaining  days.  A  few  months  might  have 
completed  it :  but  I  deliberately  determined,  in  this  re- 
spect, to  take  my  labour  for  my  pains,  and  to  expect  nei- 
ther credit,  nor  profit,  nor  even  usefulness  for  my  labours. 
They  kept  me  out  of  mischief,  as  I  said  to  you,  and  I 
think  prepared  me  for  revising  my  Commentary  to  better 
advantage,  especially  by  adducing  references  to  notes 
throughout,  which  may  in  some  measure  answer,  to  the 
purchasers  of  the  new  edition,  the  end  of  a  topical  index. 
Shotild  I  be  spared,  which  is  not  likely,  to  conclude  the 
revisal,  and  have  any  measure  ofability  for  study,  I  should 
probably  labour  to  produce  the  Concordance  of  names, 


1813 ISai.J      TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  451 

and  the  topical  Index,  apart  from  the  rest.  The  former 
is  already  finished,  in  a  manner,  I  think,  nearly  complete : 
but  it  wants  separating  from  the  other  parts  of  the  volu- 
minous manuscripts.'' 

On  the  same  subject  of  the  Concordance,  he  wrote  to 
me,  December  14th,  in  consequence  of  my  putting  the 
question,  '  Does  not  Cruden  answer  every  practical  pur- 
pose ?'  as  follows  : 

"  The  errors  and  defiences  in  Cruden  are  tenfold  more 
than  are  generally  suspected ;  and  I  believe  several  rea- 
sons induce  even  the  proprietors  to  wish  to  substitute  a 
new  work,  under  a  new  name,  in  the  place  of  it . . .  Had 
I  not  been  impeded  by  age  and  infirmity,  and  unexpect- 
edly taken  off  from  completing  it,  by  the  opportunity  of 
superintending  the  new  edition  of  the  Bible,  I  am  per- 
suaded it  would  have  been  published.  As  it  is  I  have 
my  labour  for  my  pains.  But  the  will  of  the  Lord  be 
done. — ^The  topical  Index,  if  executed  at  all,  must  be 
made  by  one  who  is  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  whole 
work,  and  enters  into  the  spirit  of  it.  The  projected 
one,  if  ever  completed,  will,  I  am  persuaded,  be  accept- 
able to  many  purchasers  of  the  several  editions  of  the 
exposition.  .  .  . 

"  I  grow  more  and  more  infirm.  My  sickness  seems 
incurable  ;  and  I  am  often  oppressed  with  asthma  :  yet  I 
go  on  doing  something." 

As  this  is  the  last  mention  that  occurs  of  the  Index  and 
Concordance,  1  shall  here  observe,  that  a  Topical  Index 
to  my  father's  Commentary,  upon  a  plan  approved  by 
himself,  is  in  a  course  of  preparation,  and  that  his  whole 
mass  of  papers,  (a  very  large  one,)  pertaining  to  the  Con- 
cordance, is  in  the  hands  of  the  person  best  qualified  to 
turn  them  to  account,  if  that  should  be  judged  practica- 
ble and  expedient.     If  any  reader  should  be  disppsed  to 


452        FROM  Tin:  disposal  ok  his  hiblk^  [Chap.  XV. 

legret  his  having  employed  so  much  time  and  labour  upon 
a  work  which  may  very  probably  never  be  executed,  I 
would  mention,  besides  its  having,  no  doubt,  materially 
eontriluited  to  the  improvement  of  his  References  and 
Commentary,  what  he  once  said  to  me  upon  the  subject, 
which  reminded  me  of  the  beautiful  anecdote  in  Dr.  Bu- 
chanan's life,  concerning  the  correction  of  the  proof  sheets 
of  the  Syriac  Testament :  "  Whether,''  said  my  father, 
'•  this  work  ever  comes  to  any  thing  or  not,  it  repays  me 
for  my  labour,  by  the  delight  I  receive  from  having  the 
whole  body  of  scripture  thus  kept  constantly  rcvolvi?ig 
before  me." — The  veriest  drudgery,  as  many  would  es- 
teem it,  about  the  sacred  volume,  is  not,  it  appears, 
barren  of  enjoyment,  and  even  present  reward. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  ensuing  year  he  speaks  of  de- 
jection, which  he  terms '^  unaccountable,"  at  times  op- 
pressing him.  To  others,  however,  who  consider  his 
age,  his  circumstances,  as  being  always  confined  to  one 
spot,  his  constant  indisposition,  his  extreme  deafness,  his 
frame  worn  down  by  incessant  labours,  it  will  rather  ap- 
pear wonderful  that  he  should  have  been  able  to  summon 
\ip  resolution  to  write,  and  speak,  and  act  as  he  did,  than 
unaccountable  that  his  spirits  should  sometimes  have  fail- 
ed him.  Brighter  gleams,  however,  from  time  to  time, 
shone  upon  his  mind,  when  he  looked  beyond  the  pres- 
ent scene.  To  hisservant  inquiring  of  him,  at  this  period, 
how  he  did,  he  replied,  "  Very  poorly  :  I  shall  soon  be 
at  home  :"  and  he  added,  "  0  how  my  heart  leaps  and 
exults  within  me,  at  the  thought  of  so  very  soon  joining 
the  glorious  company  before  the  throne  of  God  I*' 

February  13,  1821,  he  wrote  his  last  letter  to  his  old 
friend  Dr.   Ryland,  of  Biistol,  as  follows  : — 

*•  My  dear  Sir — My    infirmities  and   diseases   grow 
upon  me,  and  leave  me  little  time  or  heart  for  many  tilings 


IS13 1821. J  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  45^^ 

which  I  should  otherwise  rejoice  to  do  ;  especially  as  to 
correspondence.  You  must  then  excuse  apparent  neg- 
lect.''— The  next  paragraph  relates  to  Dr.  Carey,  and 
has  been  inserted  in  an  early  part  of  this  work . 

"  Your  account  of  your  sister's  death,  and  of  her  con- 
versation with  poor  old  Dr. ,  is  in  itself  very  inter- 
esting, and  to  me  especially.  He  was  a  very  kind  and 
generous  friend  to  me,  many  years  ago  :  but,  alas !  my 
feeble  endeavours  and  prayers  for  his  good  have  hitherto 
been  in  vain.  May  God  bless  your  beloved  dying  sister's 
faithful  attempt 

"  I  wish  we  could  do  something  to  aid  your  mission  : 
but  can  only  pray.  I  have  no  ability  o^  moving  from 
my  obscure  village,  and  my  means  of  other  kinds  are  less 
than  they  were  some  time  past. 

"  Indeed  I  do  not  expect  to  continue  long.  0  pray 
for  me,  that  my  faith,  hope,  love,  patience,  and  fortitude 
may  be  increased  ;  and  that  I  may  finish  my  course  with 
joy  :  for  I  am  apt  to  be  impatient,  unbelieving,  and 
cowardly. 

"  I  rejoice  that  you  are  able  to  go  from  place  to  place, 
in  your  services  of  love  :  may  the  Lord  prosper  you  in 
all !  Could  you  call  at  little  Aston,  you  would  meet  with 
a  hearty  welcome,  and  be  sure  to  find  us  at  home. 

^^  Mrs.  S.joinsmein  hearty  Christian  remembrance 
to  you,  Mrs.  R.,  and  all  your's.  May  God  bless  you  and 
all  your's,  and  every  work  and  labour  of  love  in  which 
you  engage  !  I  remain,  my  dear  old  friend  and  fellow 
labourer,  your's  faithfully^ 

Thos.  Scott." 

His  last  letter  to  me  was  dated  a  few  days  after,  Feb 
r-uary  23.     In  reply  to  his  complaints  of  dejection,  I  had 
reminded  him  of  the  remarkable  sentence  which  he  had 
uttered  at  the  meeting  of  our  family  party  two  years  and 


454  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,     [ChAP.  XV, 

a  half  before,  and  had  quoted  it  at  length,  as  it  has  been 
given  above. — His  answer  is  very  striking. 

"  Dear  John — My  deliberate  judgment  on  the  whole 
is  the  same  as  I  expressed  in  conference  with  you  and 
others  :  Goodness  and  mercy  have  followed  me,  &c. 
Perhaps,  when  warmed  with  the  subject,  I  spake  more 
strongly  of  my  own  personal  confidence,  than  my  habitu- 
al/ee/m^5  warrant :  but  my  dejected  feelings  are  often 
perfectly  unaccountable,  and  the  least  matter  makes  mc 
subject  to  them.  But  I  trust  all  will  end  well.  Yet  I 
apprehend,  that  to  die  of  lingering  disease  and  infirmity, 
shut  out  from  ordinary  resources  of  refreshing  intercourse 
and  employment,  requires  at  least  as  much  patience,  and 
as  strong  supports,  as  the  sufferings  of  a  martyr  in  other 
circumstances  :  and  the  want  of  duly  expecting  this  is 
one  reason,  I  suppose,  why  many  excellent  worn-out  old 
men  have  been  dejected.  It  came  upon  them  unexpect- 
edly, and  disconcerted  them. 

<<  I  have  not  s<^en  Dr,  Milner's  Sermons  ;  but  will 
procure  them. 

^^  1  hope  that,  notwithstanding  all  interruptions  and 
difficulties,  and  your  own  fears  and  feelings,  it  is  appoin- 
ted for  you  to,  &c.  &c.  If  you  have  not  that  snare, 
which,  being  aware  of  it,  you  will  more  watch  and  pray 
against,  some  other  will  come  in  its  stead.  Such  must 
he  the  case,  while,  with  sin  dwelling  in  us,  we  live  in 
such  a  world  as  this.  Had  I  had  those  views  of  ardu- 
ousness,  importance,  and  awful  responsibility,  when  I  en- 
gaged in  my  Commentary,  which  I  have  at  present,  I 
should  have  shrunk  from  the  service  with  trepidation. 
I  have  much  to  be  humbled  for,  and  have  had  many 
painful  rebukes,— and  still  have  :  yet  probably  it  was 
better  that  I  engaged  than  if  I  had  not.     We  do  nothing 


1813—1821.]       TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  455 

from  perfectly  pure  motives :  yet  we  must  occupy  with 

our  modicum  of  talent  as  we  can 

'^  I  can  only  add  my  love,  and  most  endearing  remem- 
brances to  dear  Frances,  (whom  I  especially  think  of  in 
my  prayers,)  and  Jane,  and  Fanny,  Anne,  Mary,  John, 
&c.  &c.  May  God  bless  you  and  all  of  them,  and  make 
all  of  them  blessings  to  others  long  after  I  am  gone.  Let 
the  children  of  thy  servants  continue^  and  their  seed  be 
established  before  thee  I  (Psalm  cii.  28.) 

I  am,  dear  John,  your  affectionate  father, 

Thos.  Scott. 
''  I  have  revised  copy  to  the  end  of  Thessalonians." 
Thus  his  correspondence  with  me  closed  :  a  more  wise, 
more  pious  and  holy,  or  more  affectionate  conclusion  of 
it  I  could  not  have  desired.     My  next  letter  from  Aston 
brought  the  tidings  of  his  fatal  illness. 

Four  days  after  the  preceding  date,  he  wrote  to  the 
'husband  of  his  deceased  sister,  Mrs.  Burgess.  The 
death  referred  to  in  this  letter  is  that  of  the  niece  to 
whom  some  letters,  already  inserted,  were  addressed. 

^^  February  27,  1821.  I  am  grown  very  infirm  and 
diseased,  and  have  little  time  or  heart  for  letter  writing: 
yet  the  afilictive  tidings  of  your  daughter's  almost  sud- 
den death,  joined  to  my  nephew  W.'s  letter,  induce  me 
to  undertake  a  few  lines  to  you. — I  do  greatly  sympathize 
with  you  under  the  heavy  affliction  :  yet  there  were 
many  circumstances  respecting  it,  which  may  prove  con- 
solatory and  supporting 

''  My  heart's  desire  and  prayer  for  you  is,  that  you 
may  be  saved  :  and  in  one  way  or  other  you  and  your's 
are  seldom  forgotten  in   my  prayers  any  day,  and  often 

are  repeatedly  remembered May  God  bless  you, 

and  all  your's  ;  and  gather  in  those  that  are  not  gather- 


456  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE^  [ChAP.  XV. 

cd  :  and  be  your  comforter  in  sorrow,  your  supporter  in 
old  age,  your  hope  in  death,  and  your  portion  for  ever ! 
Pray  for  mc  and  mine.  I  am,  dear  brother,  your's  af- 
fectionately, Thos.  Scott." 

On  the  same  day,  he  wrote  his  last  letter  to  his  friend 
in  Northumberland,  which  I  shall  insert  almost  entire. 

''  Dear  Mrs.   R ,     A  letter  from  you,  though  to 

spread  your  troubles  before  me,  seems  a  refreshment  to 
me,  as  it  reminds  me  of  former  times  ;  and  because  I 
consider  all  who  are  converted  by  your  means,  or  in  an- 
swer to  your  prayers,  as  in  some  measm^e  the  fruit  of  my 
former  labours.  But  I  am  now  old  (in  my  seventy-fifth 
year,)  and  infirm,  and  diseased  in  various  ways,  and  inca- 
pable of  much  exertion :  yet  I  still  preach  once  every 
Lord's  day,  and  expound  in  my  house  in  the  evening. 
I  am  also  yet  employed  with  my  pen,  almost  as  much  as 
formerly,  in  preparing  and  superintending  a  new  stereo- 
type edition  of  my  Family  Bible  ;  but  with  painfulness 
and  weariness,  which  leave  me  little  time  or  spirits  for 
correspondence.  I  bless  God,  however,  that,  though 
excluded  by  deafness  from  much  conversation,  my  eye- 
sight is  not  materially  impaired;  and  I  can  use  my  pen 
as  nimbly  as  ever. 

'*  I  can  sympathize  with  you  in  your  feelings  concern- 
ing your  children,  and  children's  children.  All  my 
children  are,  I  trust,  serving  God  :  and  my  anxiety,  as  far 
as  that  is  concerned,  is  about  my  grandchildren,  of  whom 

I  have  nineteen,  and  expect  a  twentieth  very  soon 

I  pray  in  hope,  that  they  will  be  gathered  one  by  one, 
though  most  of  them  after  my  death  ;  and  in  this  hope,  I 
use  such  means  as  I  can ;  and  desire  to  leave  the  whole 
with  a  sovereign  God,  who  dclighteth  in  mercy. 

^'  You  must  go  on,  blessing  God  for  what  he  has  done  ; 
using  what  means  you  can  with  those  that  are  yet  with- 


1813 18^1.]        TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  457 

out  and  the  furthest  off;  md  persist  in' prayer  for  them. 
You  must  stir  up  such  of  your  children  as  serve  God,  to 
do  what  they  can— and  probably,  if  zealous  with  a  lov- 
ing and  prudent  zeal,  they  may  do  more  than  you  can, — 
and  to  concur  with  you  in  prayer  for  them  :  and  thus  you 
must  endeavour  to  bow  in  submission  to  God  ;  to  wait  his 
time  ;  to  be  willing  to  leave  the  world  without  witness- 
ing their  conversion  ;  yet  hoping  and  praying  that  they 
will  at  length  be  converted.  The  promises  of  God  to  his 
people  are  so  far  encouraging  :  yet  he  has  not  absolutely 
engaged  for  the  conversion  of  all  and  every  one  :  and  we 
must  leave  that  painful  subject,  [casting  oil  our  care  on 
God,)  till  the  bright  world  to  which  we  are  going  shall 
fully  satisfy  us  that  He  did  all  wisely  and  well. 

''  I  also  sympathize  with  you  as  to  your  minister  ;  and 
do  think  it  not  only  very  hard  as  to  him,  but  somewhat 
disgraceful  as  to  the  congregation,  that  a  frugal  mainte- 
nance cannot  be  raised  for  him.  And  as  he  ^  does  not 
make  the  people  uneasy,'  were  I  among  you,  I  would  try 
to'do  it  for  him.  I  think  his  decided  friends,  though  not 
rich,  should  rather  overstep  usual  bounds  of  contribution, 
trusting  in  the  Lord,  on  such  an  emergence  ;  and  become 
bold  beggars  in  his  cause,  where  they  would  rather  suffer 
than  ask  any  thing  for  themselves 

^^  I  can  truly  say  I  seldom  forget  you  and  your's. . . . 
I  have  lost  my  only  brother,  aged  eighty-six,  and  my 
only  sister,  aged  seventy-seven,  during  the  last  year  ;  and 
am  the  only  survivor  of  thirteen  children  ;  and  am  drop- 
ping into  the  grave.  May  we  be  well  prepared  to  go 
whenever  the  summons  comes  !  Pray  for  me  and  mine  : 
for  me  especially,  that  God  would  give  me  stronger 
faith  ;  more  lively,  assured  hope  ;  more  patience ;  more 
love  ;  that  I  may  finish  my  course  with  joy.  Earnestly 
begging  of  our  most  merciful  God  abundantly  to  bless  you 

3M 


458  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,   [ChAP.  XV. 

and  all  yoiir's,  I  remain,  dear  Mi's.  R ,  your 

affectionate  friend  and  servant,  Thos.  Scott." 

I  shall  now  close  this  chapter  with  a  few  lettei's  which 
I  have  reserved,  in  order  to  avoid  too  much  which  did  not 
contri)3ute  to  the  narrative. 

To  a  niece,  left  by  the  death  of  her  mother  at  the  head 
of  a  family  : 

^'  March  13,  1815. — Your  situation  at  present,  though 
it  cannot  and  ought  not  perhaps  to  be  declined,  is  one  of 
great  importance  and  difficulty,  and  probability  of  temp- 
tation ;  considering  how  early  days  the  present  are  with 
you  as  to  religion  ;  and  how  many  things,  being  at  the 
head  of  such  a  family,  will  bring  under  your  manage- 
ment, and  in  your  way.  But  without  further  informa- 
tion as  to  particulars,  I  cannot  enter  on  much  appropi- 
ate  counsel.  You  have  two  duties  :  they  cannot  interfere, 
but  they  may  seem  to  do  so.  You  must  honour,  and  obey, 
and  oblige  your  father,  in  all  things,  except  when  a  high- 
er duty  to  God  forbids.  You  must  follow  his  inclination 
in  preference  to  your  own  ;  but  not  in  preference  to  the 
will  of  God  :  and  the  more  you  give  up  your  own  will,  the 
more  you  will  find  liberty  to  follow  your  conscience  in  re- 
spect of  the  will  of  God.  By  prudence  and  consulting 
propriety ;  by  meekness  and  gentleness,  united  with  firm- 
ness, in  tilings  of  importance  ;  it  may  be  practicable  to 
you  to  maintain  comfort  and  respectability  in  your  situa- 
tion, and  give  a  happier  turn  to  all  domestic  concerns. 
But  eagerness  and  pertinacity  in  little  things,  and  pli- 
ableness  in  things  of  importance^  will  undo,  or  prevent  all 
this. 

"  Allow  me  to  touch  one  subject  which  I  know  requires 
great  delicacy.  A  great  deal  indeed  will  depend  on 
your  appearance  and  dress.  I  do  not  want  to  convert 
you  into  a  quaker,  or  put  you  into  livery ;  but  I  cannot 


1813 — 1821.]     TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  459 

be  faithful  without  saying,  that  in  your  present  station, 
and  especially  as  being  known  to  pay  attention  to  religion, 
a  considerable  revolution  will  be  necessary  from  what  I 
saw,  when  I  last  met  you.  You  will  take  the  hint  in  good 
part ;  it  is  well  meant ;  and,  if  moderately  attended  to, 
as  to  style,  expence,  and  attention  to  dress,  will  have  the 
happiest  eifects,  in  every  way.  Especially  it  will  make 
way  for  your  becoming  acquainted  with  those  who  would 
be  a  great  help  to  you,  and  exempted  from  the  giddy 
acquaintance  of  those  who  can  only  hinder  and  ensnare 
you. 

''  I  should  partiaularly  recommend  method  to  you,  in 
your  employments.  If  you  would  at  all  prosper  in  your 
soul,  you  must  secure  time  for  retirement,  reading  the 
scriptures,  and  helps  in  understanding  them  ;  and  prayer, 
secret,  particular,  earnest  prayer.  Without  this  noth- 
ing will  be  done.  This  time,  in  your  situation,  will,  I 
apprehend,  be  best  secured  by  retrenching  an  hour  from 
sleep,  and  such  things  as  merely  relate  to  external  deco- 
ration, in  the  morning,  before  your  more  hurrying  engage- 
ments begin ;  and  in  the  evening  before  it  be  too  late. 
But  securing  time  in  the  morning  is  the  grand  thing : 
not  that  the  other  should  be  neglected ;  but  it  will 
necessarily  be  exposed  to  more  interruptions.  A  plan, 
however,  should  be  laid  down,  and  adhered  to,  with  as 
much  regularity,  at  least,  as  that  about  our  meals.  That 
must  sometimes  be  broken  in  upon  ;  yet  not  often.  Above 
all,  as  much  as  possible,  secure  the  whole  of  the  Lord's 
day,  and  firmly  stand  out  against  Sunday-visitings.  In 
addition  to  this,  if  you  would  improve  your  mind  and 
heart,  learn  to  redeem  the  fragments  of  time.  Have  a 
book  at  hand,  that  when  you  are  waiting  perhaps  for 
your  father  or  friends  to  dinner,  or  on  similar  occasions, 
you  may  not  let  the  little  oddments  of  time  elapse,  or  ra- 


460  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,  [ChAP.  XV. 

ther  heavily  drawl  on  as  a  burden  :  but  take  the  book,  and 
read  a  little  ;  and,  if  you  lift  up  a  short  prayer  over  what 
you  read,  so  much  the  better.  It  is  surprising  how  much 
I  liave  read  and  learned  in  these  fragments  of  time,  which 
most  people  lose.  Gather  up  the  fragmenta  that  nothing 
be  lost. 

'*  I  am  afraid  your  influence,  at  first  at  least,  will  be 
insuflicient  for  what  I  am  about  to  add  ;  but  persevering, 
firm,  and  mild  efforts  may  do  much  :  I  mean  in  avoiding 
late  visits,  and  the  late  entertainment  of  visitors.  Even 
among  pious  persons,  I  scarcely  know  any  thing  more  hos- 
tile to  the  religion  of  the  closet — that  is,  the  religion  of 
the  heart  and  soul. 

''  What  you  mention  in  respect  of  original  sin,  lies 
at  the  bottom  of  all  Christianity  ;  and  we  never  learn  any 
thing  else  to  much  purpose,  till  we  become  deeply 
sensible  of  innate  depravity  ;  of  a  moral  disease^  which 
we  cannot  cure,  and  have  not  heart  of  ourselves  to 
cure  :  but  which  the  Lord  alone  can  cure.  We  ought, 
however,  to  seek  the  cure  from  Him,  as  we  do  health 
from  the  physician,  by  applying  to  him,  trusting  him, 
following  his  directions,  welcoming  his  medicines,  avoid- 
ing what  he  inhibits,  &c. — If  you  propose  any  special 
questions  to  me,  in  opening  your  mind  as  you  men- 
tion, I  will,  if  able,  give  you  the  best  counsel  I  can. — 
I  remain,  your  affectionate  uncle, 

Thomas  Scott." 
To  the  same. 

"  April  3,  1818. — I  am  not  disposed  to  prescribe  to 
any  one  an  implicit  deference  to  the  sentiments  or  max- 
ims of  another,  however  senior  or  superior  :  but,  when 
the  junior  or  inferior  differs  from  the  superior,  it  should 
be  with  great  caution,  and  many  prayers  and  fears  lest 
the  difi'erence  should  be  the  effect  of  mistake,  or  in- 


1813 1821.]         TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNES3.  461 

ferior  knowledge,  judgment,  and  simplicitv,  rather  than 
of  more  correct  and  scriptural  views  of  truth  and  duty. 
The  peculiarity,  which  I  have  sometimes  noticed  in 
approved  characters  with  some  disapprohation,  I  have  in 
many  instances  lived  to  regard  as  the  result  of  deeper  ex- 
perience, more  enlarged  observation,  and  a  more  exact 
knowledge  of  the  word  of  God,  of  the  human  heart,  and  of 
the  state  of  the  world  and  the  church. 

^'I  believe  that  many  cordially  approve  of  the  ge- 
neral outline  of  the  established  church,  who  yet  dis- 
sent from  it,  even  where  they  might  hear  the  genuine 
gospel  preached  in  the  church,  from  some  such  objec- 
tions as  has  to  the  Athanasian  creed.  I,  how- 
ever, think  that  the  advantages  of  our  worship  so  much 
counterbalance  what  may  be  thought  imperfections,  that 
I  am  cordially  attached  to  it  ;  though  not  with  such 
indiscriminating  partiality  as  some  are.  I  have  little 
objection  to  the  docrine,  or  to  the  spirit,  of  the  Atha- 
nasian creed.  Properly  understood,  it  only  pronounces 
the  damnatory  sentence  on  those  whom  the  scripture 
condemns ;  and  this  only  in  a  declarative  way,  not  as 
denounemg  them,  or  imp7^ecating  evil  upon  them.  But, 
as  it  endeavours  too  particularly  to  explain  what,  after 
all,  is  incomprehensible  ;  as  many  have  objections  to 
it ;  and  as  it  is  appointed  only  in  the  morning  service, 
which  is  otherwise  sufficiently  long ;  I  do  not  very  fre- 
quently use  it.'' .... 

To  a  clergyman,  the  vicar  of  a  large  and  important 
parish. 

^"'August  12,  1819.  Reverend  and  dear  Sir,  I  should 
count  it  a  privilege,  if  I  could  suggest  any  hints,  which 
might  help  you  in  that  most  important  charge  to  which 
the  Lord  has  called  you  :  but  I  especially  am  without  ex- 


462  FIIOM  MIL  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,   [ChAP.  XV. 

/?f;7>wc;? /a/ acquaintance  with  the  subject.  I  have,  howev- 
er, made  many  observations  on  what  others  have  attempted. 
"  When  curate  of  Olney,  I,  as  it  were,  inherited  a 
prayer- meeting  conducted  on  the  same  plan,  but  not  so 
wild  and  extravagant,  as  the  prayer-meetings  in  your  pa- 
rish are  :  but  I  soon  found  it  needful  or  advisable  to  with- 
draw, and  to  leave  the  persons  who  conducted  it  to  them- 
selves ;  neither  opposing  nor  countenancing  it.     Most  of 
them  became  dissenters,  some  dissenting  ministers.   Since 
that  time,  I  have  never  had  any  opening  for  any  thing  of 
the  kind  :   but  I  used  to  advise  my  people,  when  they 
visited  one  another,  or  were  visited  by  relations  from 
other  places,  or  met  on  any  occasion,  that  one  of  them 
should  read  a  chapter,  and  that  the  same  person,  or  some 
other,  should  pray  particularly  with  the  company,  and 
for  their  neighbours,  the  sick,  their  minister,  and  minis- 
ters in  general,  and  missionaries,  and  the  enlargement, 
purity,  and  peace  of  the  church  :  but  not  to  attempt  other 
prayer- meetings.      This  plan  seemed  to  answer  every 
needful  purpose  :  and  often,  when  I  visited  the  sick,  or 
went  to  a  distant  place,  a  number  w^ould  collect  around 
me  :  and  I  gave  appropriate  counsel  and  prayed  with 
them.  In  this  village,  the  whole  population  does  not  much 
exceed  seventy  persons,  my  own  family  included — what 
a  contrast  to  your  parish  !    I  expound  in  my  kitchen  to 
such  as  attend  on  a  Sunday  evening,  and  pray  with  them : 
and  in  winter  on  the  week-day  evening.     But  we  have 
no  praying-men  or  praying- women,  (I  mean  in  public,) 
either  to  help  or  hinder  us.     In  a  neighbouring  village, 
there  are  prayer- meetings,  at  which  some  of  my  congre- 
gation attend  and  assist :  but  I  take  no  part  in  respect  of 
them. 

"  In  general,  I  am  apt  to  think  it  very  difficult  for  a 
minister  in  the  establishment  to  form,  or  conduct  prayer- 


1813 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  463 

meetings,  in  such  a  manner  as  that  the  aggregate  good 
shall  not  be  counterbalanced,  or  even  over-balanced  by 
positive  evil.     But  men  of  far  greater  experience,  and 
capacity  of  judging,  have   thought  otherwise  ;    among 
whom,  I  especially  look  up  to  Mr.  Walker,  of  Truro, 
whose  regulations  I  thought  very  judicious.     But  I  am 
also,  I  fear,  prejudiced ;  as  the  evils  which  arose  from 
those  at  Olney  induced  such  an  association  of  ideas  in  my 
mind,  as  probably  never  can  be  dissolved. — ^Two  or  three 
effects  were  undeniable.     1st.  They  proved  hotbeds,  on 
which  superficial  and  discreditable  preachers  were  hastily 
raised  up ;  who,  going  forth  on  the  Lord's  day  to  the 
neighbouring  parishes,  intercepted  those  who  used  to  at- 
tend Mr  Newton.     2dli/.  Men  were  called  to  pray  in 
public,  whose  conduct  afterwards  brought  a  deep  disgrace 
on  the  gospel.     Sdly,  They  produce  a  captious,  critici- 
sing, self  wise  spirit,  so  that  even  Mr.  Newton  himself 
could  seldom  please  them.     These  things  had  no  small 
effect  in  leading  him  to  leave  Olney.     4thii/.  They  ren- 
dered the  people  so  contemptuously  indifferent  to  the 
worship  of  God  at  the  church,  and,  indeed,  many  of  them 
to  any  public  worship  in  which  they  did  not  take  a  part, 
that  I  never  before  or  since  witnessed  any  thing  like  it : 
and  this  was  one  of  my  secret  reasons  for  leaving  Olney. 
As  what  I  have  written  seems  to  go  far  towards  a  neg- 
ative answer  to  your  first  question  ;  it  will  be  needless  to 
give  any  opinion  on  the  modification  of  such  institutions. 
In  general,  if  any  are  explicitly  countenanced   by  the 
clergymen,  they  should  exactly  conform  to  such  regula- 
tions as  he  shall  deem  expedient  :  or,  if  he  attend,  none 
should  officiate  except  himself,  or  some  clerical  friend  or 
assistant :  for  it  must  destroy  all  ministerial  authority  and 
influence,  for  him  to  be  present,  while  one  of  his  flock,  a 
layman,  is  the  mouth  of  God  to  the  company,  or  of  the 


464  I'ROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,  [ChAP.   XV. 

company  in  addressing  God.     It  is  also  an   irregularity, 
which  cannot  be  justified  to  our  diocesans  or  others. 

"  If  prayer-meetings  cannot  be  thus  conducted,  under 
the  countenance  of  the  clergyman,  it  appears  to  me,  that 
he  had  better  leave  them,  and  those  concerned  in  them, 
to  take  their  course,  neither  directly  supporting  nor  op- 
posing them  ;  but  endeavouring  to  inculcate  those  gener- 
al principles,  which  may  silently  operate  to  regulate 
and  purify  them  ;  and  using  his  influence  with  the  more 
teachable  and  maneageable  of  those  concerned,  in  private 
admonitions,  counsels,  and  cautions,  nearly  in  the  man- 
ner which  you  describe.  In  the  mean  time,  he  must  lay 
his  account  with  being  less /?o/>w/ar  than  those  who  more 
humour  the  people,  and  give  them  more  importance 
among  their  brethren  ;  which  is  one  grand  advantage 
that  dissenters  of  every  kind  have  over  pious  clergy- 
men. 

"  No  caution  can  be  more  important,  than  what  relates 
to-the  persons  called  forth  to  take  an  active  part  in  such 
services.  The  first  proposal  should  be  made  with  ex- 
treme care  :  for,  when  once  a  man  •  is  considered  as  one 
of  the  praying  or  expounding  persons,  it  will  not  be  easy 
to  lay  him  aside,  even  if  he  become  a  disgrace,  and  a  dis- 
tress to  most  of  the  company. — As  to  women  praying  in 
public  in  the  presence  of  men,  it  is  so  antiscriptural,  so 
inconsistent  with  all  the  subordination  in  domestic  life, 
and  with  all  that  modesty  and  delicacy  which  are  the 
chief  ornaments  of  the  sex,  that  I  should  feel  at  liberty 
openly  to  protest  against  it.  But,  perhaps,  it  may  not  be 
expedient,  as  yet,  for  you  to  do  so.  Nothing  but  an 
undoubted  prophetical  spirit  in  the  woman  herself  can 
render  it  consistent  with  scripture. 

^^  But  '  good  is  done.'  God  may  do  good  notwithstand. 
ing  :   but  are  we  to  do  evil  that  good  may  come  ?  Does 


1813 — 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  465 

he  need  our  misconduct  to  accomplish  his  purposes  ? 
Shall  we  break  his  laws  to  promote  his  gospel  ?  Good  is 
done  :  but  is  not  mischief  dX^o  done  ?  The  mischief  is  the 
direct  consequence  :  the  good  by  occasion  at  most.  Such 
men,  Mr.  Cecil  used  to  say,  have  hut  one  side  in 
their  account-book :  they  set  down  their  gains,  but  not 
their  losses  :  and,  these  being  greater  than  their  gains, 
they  become  bankrupt.  The  prejudice  excited  ainon^tiiose 
without,  and  the  various  ways  in  which,  by  such  practi- 
ces, the  success  and  spread  of  the  gospel  are  hindered, 
(besides  the  mischief  done  to  the  persons  concerned,) 
warrant  the  assertion  that  they  are  most  grievous  evils  ; 
bad  bills  indorsed  sometimes  by  good  men. 

"  Upon  the  whole,  I  think  you  are  going  on  in  as  hope- 
ful a  manner  as  can  reasonably  be  expected,  and  I  rejoice 
in  the  prospect  of  usefulness,  which  lies  before  you.  I 
pray  God  to  direct,  counsel,  and  prosper  you  ;  pray  for 
me,  especially  that  I  may  have  patience  and  hope  to  the 
end.  I  am,  reverend  and  dear  sir,  your  friend  and  ser- 
vant, Thomas  Scott." 

To  a  clergyman  who  had  consulted  him  upon  a  question, 
which  the  letter  itself  will  sufficiently  explain. 

^^  December  20,  1819.  Reverend  Sir,  Your  letter  is 
written  in  so  proper  a  spirit,  and  relates  to  so  interesting 
a  subject,  that  I  should  deem  myself  favoured  if  I  could 
give  a  satisfactory  answer  to  it. 

"  I  have  long  felt  some  of  the  difficulties  which  you 
state,  in  respect  of  direct  addresses  in  worship  to  the 
Holy  Spirit,  personally  and  separatehj  ;  of  which  cer- 
tainly but  few  are  found  in  the  sacred  scriptures.  Per- 
haps, as  all  our  spiritual  worship  must  be  offered  by  His 
sacred  teaching  and  influence  on  the  heart  and  mind  ; 
and  as  the  grand  promise  of  the  New  Testament,  com- 

3  N 


466  FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,   [ChAP.  XV. 

prising  all  the  rest  for  spiritual  blessings,  relates  to  God's 
giving  us,  through  Christ,  the  Holy  Spirit  of  life,  light, 
holiness,  power,  lil)erty,  and  love,  &c.  ;  it  is  less  proper 
that  our  prayers  should  be  offered  directly  and  personally 
to  the  Holy  Spirit. — The  form  of  baptism,  into  the 
name  of  the  Father,  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
seems  to  me  to  recognize  God  our  Saviour,  as  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  In  this  view,  when  God  is 
addresssd  without  personal  distinction,  I  consider  the  ad- 
dress as  made  to  the  God  of  salvation  ;  and  the  Holy 
Spirit  included,  whether  prayer  or  praise  be  offered. 
— The  trishagion,  or  threefold  ascription  of  holiness  to 
Jehovah,  both  in  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  seems  an 
act  of  worship  to  the  Holy  Spirit,  together  with  the  Fa- 
ther and  the  Son. — The  form  of  blessing  appointed  by 
Moses,  in  this  view,  implies  a  prayer  to  the  Holy  Spirit, 
in  the  threefold  repetition.  Num.  vi.  24 — 27.  ;  as  does 
the  apostolical  benediction,  2  Cor.  xiii.  14. — I  have  no 
hesitation  in  my  mind,  as  to  the  express  act  of  adoration, 
in  Rev.  i.  4.  being  offered  personally  to  the  Holy  Spirit, 
according  to  the  emblematical  language  of  that  book.  And, 
when  salvation  is  ascribed  to  our  God,  ivho  sitteih  on  the 
throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb,  I  consider  the  term  God  as 
denoting  the  God  of  salvation,  as  above  explained  ;  and 
the  Larnb  that  was  slain,  as  referring  to  the  incarnate 
Saviour's  propitiation  and  mediation,  through  whom  we 
sinners  approach  God  with  all  our  worship,  and  to  eternity 
shall  view  all  our  salvation  as  coming  to  us  through  his 
sacrifice. — It  appears  to  me,  that  the  reason  why  the 
Sinso  so  frequently  addressed,  in  both  scriptural  prayers 
and  adoring  praises,  springs  from  his  mediatorial  charac- 
ter, as  God  manifested  in  the  flesh  ;  and  as  God  was  in 
Christ  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself ;  and  as,  in 
addressing  him  who  owns  us  as  brethren,  we  do  not  for- 


1813 — 1821.]  TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  467 

get  his  Deity,  and  recollect  also,  that  he  suffered^  being 
tempted,  that  he  anight  succour  the  tempted.  The  style 
of  the  New  Testament  is,  the  God  and  Father  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ;  as  that  of  the  Old  Testament  is,  the 
God  of  Abraham,  or  of  Israel:  but,  in  both,  the  true 
God  is  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  07%e  JVame,  three 
persons  :  and,  in  addressing  God  in  Chi^ist,  we  come  to 
God  by  Christy  even  as  if  we  addressed  God  as  the  Fa- 
ther of  Christ.  This  seems  clearly  exhibited  in  the  apos- 
tolical practice  :  Through  whom  me  have  access,  by  one 
Spirit,  unto  the  Father. 

If  then  we  be  fully  convinced  that  the  Holy  Spirit  is 
God,  and  that  all  divine  perfections  and  operations,  to- 
gether with  every  personal  property,  are  ascribed  to  him, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  but  he  is  the  object  of  divine 
adoration.  Wliere  God  is  addressed,  without  distinction^ 
of  persons,  The  Holy  Spirit  is  virtually  addressed :  all 
that  dependence,  gratitude,  love,  and  honour,  which  are 
required  as  due  to  our  God,  are  required  towards  the 
Holy  Spirit ;  and  therefore  worship,  and  adoring  praise 
and  prayer  cannot  be  improper.  Yet,  probably,  had 
not  the  controversies  with  Arians  and  others  made  way 
for  it,  so  large  a  proportion  of  personal  addresses  to  the 
Holy  Spirit,  would  not  have  been  found  in  our  public 
services.  I,  however,  feel  no  dissatisfaction  respecting 
them,  though  in  other  acts  of  worship!  am  not  so  gener- 
ally and  explicitly  led  to  address  the  Holy  Spirit. 

"  Should  these  thoughts  induce  you  to  propose  any 
further  questions,  I  will  endeavour  to  answer  them.  I 
grow  old  and  infirm,  though  still  employed  :  but  I  much 
need  your  prayers  :  and,  if  you  and  your  friends  have  de- 
rived any  benefit  from  my  labours,  (to  God  be  all  the 
glory  !)  do  not  forget  me  at  the  throne  of  grace,  but 
pray  for  me,  that  God  would  give  me  the  increase  of 


468  FROM  THK  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS   nillLl-:,  [CllAl'.    XV. 

faith,  ntul  hope,  ;iiul  patience  ;  that  I  may  not  dishonour 
him  in  my  closing  scene,  or,  aftrr  preachinu;  to  others^  he 
myself  a  cast-aioai/ ;  but  may  finish  my  course  with  joy. 
With  prayer  that  God  may  abundantly  bless  you  and 
youi-s,  and  all  your  labours,  I  am,  reverend  Sir,  your 
faithful  friend  and  brother,  Thos.  Scott.'' 

The  person  addressed,  observes,  in  transmitting  me  the 
letter,  ''  As  I  believed  the  late  Mr.  Scott  to  be  the  best 
Bible-scholar  living,  being  in  the  possession  of  the  result 
of  his  inquiries  upon  the  question,  I  have  been  and  am 
perfectly  at  rest  upon  it.'' 

His  last  letter  to  the  Rev.  John  Mayor,  Shawbury, 
Salop. 

'•  January  2,  1821 .  My  dear  old  friend,  I  am  unwil- 
ling to  deny  your  request  to  write  a  few  lines  in  answer  to 
your  kind  letter;  but  multiplied  engagements  and  many 
infirmities  must  plead  for  a  much  shorter  letter  than  I 
should  otherwise  write. 

"  I  am,  indeed,  very  far  from  good  health  :  I  am  wear- 
ing down  by  increasing  infirmities,  local  and  chronical 
diseases,  and  old  age,  almost  seventy-four. — I  have  not 
been  out  of  my  parish,  or  at  the  further  end  of  it,  for 
several  years.  One  service  on  the  Lord's  day  seems  to 
overdo  me  ;  and  I  have  got  a  curate.  Yet,  in  my  study  I 
apply  myself  nearly  as  much  as  usual,  though  with  much 
uneasiness  and  weariness. — Well,  after  all.  Surely  good- 
7iess  and  mercy  have  followed  me  all  my  days^  and,  I 
hope,  /  shall  dwell  in  the  house  of  God  for  ever. 

*^  I  am  thankful  that  you  write  as  in  health  and  spirits  ; 
and  for  the  favourable  account  you  give  of  your  family. 
May  God  gather  them  all  into  his  family,  and  make  them 
and  their's  blessed  !  May  the  children  of  thy  servants 
continue,  and  their  seed  be  established  before  thee!  (Psal. 


1813 1821.]        TO  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS.  469 

cii.  28.)  My  children,  I  trust,  are  in  the  way  to  heaven, 
and  useful  to  others.  I  have  nineteen  grand-children  ; 
all  hopeful,  as  far  as  we  can  see  :  one,  I  trust,  more  than 
hopeful ;  and  others,  I  hope,  coming  forward.  Pray  for 
them. 

"  I  am  as  fully  aware  of 's  unfairness,  as  well  as 

gross  blunders  in  quotation,  as  any  book  can  make  me  : 
but  he  has  the  whole  human  heart  on  his  side  ;  and  he 
furnishes  some  plausible  arguments  to  those  numbers  of 
ignoramuses,  who  hate  the  genuine  gospel,  but  are  total- 
ly incompetent  to  make  any  reply  to  it 

"  I  have  the  honour  of  having  as  many  lies  told  of  me, 

as  most  men  in  these   days.      I   never  wrote  to  

whatever  I  thought  or  said  privately,  any  thing  like 
what  is  imputed  to  me.  Challenged  repeatedly  in  a 
peculiar  style,  I  found  it  necessary  to  write  a  letter 
declinging  the  challenge,  as  civilly  as  I  could  with  sin- 
cerity ;  and  I  have  no  objection  to  the  letter  being 
published  in  any  newspaper,  if  any  choose  to  do  it. 
He  too,  though  less  specious,  among  another  company 
has  all  the  human  heart  on  his  side  :  but  doing  good  is 
against  wind  and  tide,  and  goes  on  slowly  ;  yet,  by  God's 
blessing,  surely. — I  am  sorry  for  what  you  write  about  Mr. 

—  ....  Indeed,  eager,  vehement,  speculating  Armi- 

nianism  is  most  nearly  allied  to  Pelagianism,  and  the  tran- 
sition is  almost  imperceptible.     No  doubt and  his 

meaner  coadjutor  defend  Pelagianism,  as  well  as 

Arminianism. 

"  So  you  are  become  a  dabler  in  prophecy,  as  almost 
every  one  is  in  these  days.  I  read,  in  various  ways,  al- 
most numberless  tracts,  papers,  pamphlets,  books,  upon 
the  subject  of  unfulfilled  prophecies  :  but  still  I  cannot 
prophesy.  Nor  do  I  yet  see  reason  to  alter  the  opinions, 
which  I  have  given  in  my  former  editions  of  the  Family 


470         FROM  THE  DISPOSAL  OF  HIS  BIBLE,    [ChAP.  XV. 

Bible.  In  Daniel,  I  have  endeavoured  to  elucidate  and 
confirm  those  views  ;  I  hope,  successfully.  When  I  come 
(should  I  live  so  long,) to  Revelation,  I  will  carefully  re- 
vise that;  and  I  will  keep  your  letter,  and  weigh  what 
you  have  said  ;  for  I  desire  light  from  every  quarter,  and 
I  trust  sincerely  pray  daily  to  be  set  right  where  wrong. 
— At  present,  I  am  decidedly  of  opinion,  that  all  des- 
cribing the  church,  or  the  new  Jerusalem,  in  the  xxist 
and  xxiid  of  Revelation,  relates  to  the  heavenly  state  : 
that  all  relating  to  the  earthly  state  ends,  in  the  xxth 
chapter,  with  the  account  of  the  day  of  judgment :  that 
the  coming  and  reign  of  Christ,  before  and  during  the 
millennium,  will  be  spiritual,  not  personal :  that  the  res- 
urrection of  souls  does  not  mean  the  resurrection  of  bo- 
dies— but  as  John  the  Baptist  was  Elijah  :  and  that,  at 
at  last,  we  are  all  much  in  the  dark,  and  should  not  be 
confident  as  our  descendants  will  know. — If  the  new  Jeru- 
salem— examine  its  form  and  size — is  to  be  placed  literal- 
ly in  Judea,  how  can  all  the  kings  of  the  earth  bring  their 
glory  and  riches  into  it, — from  Mexico,  Peru,  China, 
Russia,  &c.  ?  and  what  is  to  be  done  with  them  there  ? — 
But  I  desist :  I  can  conceive  of  a  figurative,  but  can  form  no 
manner  of  conception  of  a  literal  fulfilment  :  and  the 

whole  book  is  allegorical 

''  Our  best  love  to  Mrs.  M.,  and  your  brother  and  re- 
lations in  London,  and  to  my  goddaughter,  Jane.  May 
God  bless  you,  and  them,  and  all  theirs,  and  make  them 
blessings !  May  he  grant  you  and  yours  a  happy  year, 
and  many  happy  years  ! — Pray  that  God  would  increase 
my  faith,  hope,  and  patience,  especially,  during  my  clos- 
ingscene,  that  I  may  finish  my  course  with  joy. — I  remain, 
dear  Sir,  with  much  affection  and  esteem,  your  faithful 
friend  and  brother.  Thomas  Scott." 


1821.}  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  AND  DEATH.  471 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  AND  DEATH. 

Of  the  last  solemn  scenes  of  this  chapter,  the  Rev.  D. 
Wilson  thus  introduces  the  account,  which  he  has  already 
given  to  the  public  in  his  excellent  funeral  sermons. 

"  During  several  years  preceding  the  event  itself,  his 
bodily  infirmities  had  been  gradually  increasing.  His 
strength  and  natural  spirits  at  times  sensibly  failed.  His 
own  impression  was  that  his  departure  was  approaching, 
and  he  contemplated  it  with  the  calmness  and  tranquility 
which  I  have  already  noticed  as  being  implied  in  the 
first  clause  of  my  text.*  He  preached  more  than  once 
from  the  words  of  St.  Peter,  with  an  evident  refFerence 
to  his  own  case.  Knowing  that  I  must  shortly  put  off 
this  my  tabernacle.  He  said  to  me  about  two  years  since, 
^  I  feel  nature  giving  way  ;  I  am  weary  of  my  journey, 
and  wish  to  beat  home,  if  it  be  God's  will ;'  meaning  that 
he  desired  to  depart  and  to  be  with  Christ.  The  nearer 
he  came  to  the  time  of  his  dismissal,  he  became  the  more 
earnest  in  prayer,  that  God  would  uphold  him  during  the 
scenes  of  suffering  and  trial  which  might  await  him  before 
his  last  hour,  expressing  at  the  same  time  the  deepest 
conviction  of  his  own  weakness  and  unworthiness,  and  his 
constant  need  of  divine  mercy.  He  had  been  particularly 
anxious  during  the  entire  period  of  his  ministry  to  be 

*  2  Tim.  iv.  6 — 8. 


472  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVI. 

preserved  from  dishonouring  his  holy  profession  ;  and  now, 
as  life  wore  away,  he  became  more  and  more  fervent  in 
prayer  for  grace  that  he  might  not  say  or  do  any  thing, 
that  sliould  lessen  the  weight  of  what  he  had  previously 
taught  and  written." 

What  has  already  appeared  in  these  pages  will  amply 
confirm  the  correctness  of  these  representations. 

Again,  after  introducing  some  sentences  from  the  last 
sermonwhichhe  heard  my  father  preach,  Mr.  Wilson  pro- 
ceeds :  "  Thus  did  this  holy  man  continue  to  speak  and 
act  in  the  near  view  of  death.  In  the  mean  time  he  re- 
mitted nothing  of  his  accustomed  labours.  It  is  but  a 
short  time  since  he  wrote  to  one  of  his  children,  '  I  believe 
I  work  more  hours  daily  in  my  study  than  ever  I  did  in 
my  life.'  Increasing  deafness  indeed  precluded  him  al- 
most entirely  from  conversation.  His  spirits  also  failed 
liim  more  and  more,  and  he  would  sometimes  burst  into 
teai^,  whilst  he  assured  his  affectionate  familv  that  he  had 
no  assignable  cause  of  distress  whatever.  But  his  judg- 
ment and  habits  of  close  thought  seemed  to  remain  unim- 
paired still.  His  last  discourse  was  delivered  on  Sunday, 
March  4th,  from  the  words  of  the  apostle  Paul,  He  that 
spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  delivered  him  up  for  us  all, 
how  shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  f 
In  the  evening  of  the  same  day  he  expounded  as  usual  to 
several  of  his  parishioners  assembled  in  his  rectory,  from 
the  parable  of  the  Pharisee  and  the  Publican.  He  en- 
tered with  much  animation  into  both  these  subjects  ;  and 
in  the  evening  he  applied  to  himself  in  a  very  affecting 
manner  the  prayer  of  the  penitent  publican,  God  be  mer- 
ciful to  me  a  sirmer.  In  this  striking  manner,  did  he 
close  his  public  testimony  to  to  the  faith,  which  he  had 
kept  during  his  whole  preceding  ministry.'' 

Very  cordially  also  do  I  concur  in  the  following   addi- 


1S21.]  AND  DEATH.  473 

tional  remarks,  with  which  Mr.  W.  prefaces  the  part  of 
his  subject  to  which  we  are  approaching  : — 

Before  I  proceed  to  give  some  particulars  of  his  most 
instructive  and  affecting  departure,  I  must  observe  that 
I  lay  no  stress  on  them  as  to  the  evidence  of  his  state  be- 
fore God.  It  is  the  tenour  of  the  life,  not  that  of  the 
few  morbid  and  suffering  scenes  which  precede  dissolu- 
tion, that  fixes  the  character.  We  are  not  authorized 
by  scripture  to  place  any  dependence  on  the  last  periods 
of  sinking  nature,  through  which  the  Christian  may  be 
called  to  pass  to  his  eternal  reward.  The  deaths  of  the 
saints  described  in  the  inspired  volume  are,  without  ex- 
ception, the  concluding  scenes  of  long  and  consistent 
previous  devotedness  to  the  service  of  God.  Such  are 
those  of  Isaac,  Jaccb,  Moses,  David.  That  of  Stephen 
is  the  only  narrative  of  this  kind  in  the  New  Testament, 
which  regards  the  article  of  death  at  all  ;  and  the  cir- 
cumstances in  which  he  has  placed,  as  the  first  martyr  of 
the  Christian  Church,  may  well  account  for  the  excep- 
tion. The  great  apostle  of  the  gentiles,  and  the  other 
inspired  founders  of  the  new  dispensation,  are  exhibited 
to  us  in  the  holiness  of  their  lives,  in  the  calmness  of 
their  approach  towards  death,  in  the  deliberate  judgment 
they  form  of  their  past  labours,  in  their  exhortations  to 
others  to  supply  their  vacant  posts  of  duty,  in  their  tri- 
umphant anticipations  of  their  future  reward  ;  but  not  in 
the  actual  moments  of  their  final  conflict.  It  would 
therefore  have  been  no  subject  of  surprise,  if  the  last 
days  of  our  lamented  friend  had  been  wholly  clouded  by 
the  natural  operations  of  disease.  We  should  then  have 
drawn  the  veil  entirely  over  them,  as  in  the  case  of  many 
of  the  eminent  servants  of  Christ,  in  every  age.  But, 
though  no  importance  is  to  be  attached  to  these  hours  of 
fainting  mortality,  with  reference  to  the  acceptance  and 

3  0 


474  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVI. 

final  triuninh  of  the  dyini;  Christian,  yet,  where  it  pleas- 
es God  to  afford  one  of  his  departing  servants,  as  in  thfe 
instance  hefore  iis,  sju  h  a  measure  of  faith  and  self  pos- 
session as  to  close  a  holy  and  most  consistent  life,  with  a 
testimony  which  seak  d,  amidst  the  pains  of  acute  disease, 
and  in  the  most  impressive  manner,  all  his  doctrines  and 
instructions,  during  forty  five  preceding  years,  we  arc 
called  on,  as  I  think,  to  record  with  gratitude  the  divine 
benefit,  Jind  to  use  it  with  humility  for  the  confirmation  of 
our  own  foithand  joy." 

These  remarks  premised,  I  proceed  to  lay  before  the 
reader  the  best  account  in  my  power  of  the  deeply  af- 
fecting scene  ;  which  I  shall  do  chiefly  in  the  words  of  let- 
ters written,  and  memorandums  made  on  the  spot.  This, 
I  trust,  will  be  to  the  reader,  who  feels  himself  sufficient- 
ly interested  in  the  event  to  excuse  the  minuteness  of  the 
narration,  the  most  satisfactory  plan  that  I  can  adopt. 

Sunday,  March  4,  was,  as  the  reader  has  already  beeti 
informed,  the  day  that  terminated  my  father's  public 
ministrations.  Almost  immediately  afterwards  he  seems 
to  have  suffered  a  degree  of  indisposition ;  but  not  such 
as  rendered  it  necessary  to  inform  the  absent  branches  of 
hh  family  before  Friday,  March  16th.  A  letter  of  that 
date  brought  me  this  intelligence  :  "  Your  dear  father 
has  for  tins  last  week  been  seriously  indisposed.  The 
beginning  of  the  preceding  week  he  caught  a  severe 
cold.  On  Friday  (the  9th,)  he  was,  however,  much  bet- 
ter of  his  catarrhal  affection,  but  on  Saturday  was  at- 
tacked, in  his  usual  way,  with  fever,  which  continued 
severe  till  Monday,  (the  12th,)  when  it  seemed  to  yield  to 
the  usual  remedies,  and  he  was  so  much  better  as  to  come 
down  stairs  for  a  short  time.  In  the  night  the  feverish 
symptoms  increased.      He   was  better  again    yesterday 


1821.]  AND  DKATH,  47^6 

morning ;  but  has  since  been  -o  ill  that  I  resolved  to  send 
for  Dr.  Slater.  He  has  just  left  us  this  afternoon.  He 
says  the  complaint  is  quite  the  same  as  on  former  occa- 
sions, advises  that  we  should  pursue  the  plan  already 
adopted,''  &c. 

The  day  after  this  letter  was  written,  my  sister,  quite 
providentially,  and  as  it  seemed,  notwithstanding  many  ob- 
stacles had  opposed  her  journey,  went  over  to  Aston  ;  little 
expecting  w^hat  she  was  to  meet  with  there.  The  next 
day,  Sunday,  my  second  brother  arrived.  The  cause 
of  his  journey,  and  the  state  in  which  he  found  things, 
are  thus  described  in  a  letter  of  Monday,  March  19th. 

*^  — I  had  sent  a  man  and  horse  over  on  Saturday 
evening  to  ascertain  my  father's  real  state,  with  directions 
to  return  early  in  the  morning  if  he  were  very  ill  ;  if 
not,  to  stay  till  Monday.  He  returned  early  yesterday, 
and  brought  me  an  account,  which  led  me  to  fear,  that, 
though  I  travelled  with  all  the  speed  a  post-chaise  could 
give,  I  should  scarcely  find  him  alive.  I  came  with  a 
heavy  heart:  but,  I  am  happy  to  say,  the  continuance  of 
immediate  alarm  had  been  short ;  and,  as  I  drew  near 
Aston,  1  met  with  one  or  two  persons  who  gave  me  a 
more  favourable  account  than  I  had  anticipated.  I  found 
him,  indeed,  in  an  exceedingly  weak  state,  but  free  from 
the  extreme  agitation  which  he  laboured  under  during 
the  day  and  night  of  Saturday,  owing  to  the  violence  of 
the  fever.  Symptoms,  I  think,  are  on  the  whole  impro- 
ving, but  I  cannot  feel  very  sanguine  hopes  of  his  ulti- 
mate recovery. 

"  My  visit  certainly  is  very  painful  ;  yet  at  the  same 
time  very  gratifying  :  for  it  has  removed  the  distressing 
feeling  I  had  about  the  state  of  his  mind.  His  gloom, 
of  which  I  had  heard  a  good  deal  in  an  indistinct  manner 
by  no  means  relates  to  the  prospects  which  lie  before  him. 


476  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVI. 

He  is  perfectly  calm  and  cheerful  in  the  view  of  dissolu- 
tion ;  and  seems  disappointed  at  the  symptoms  of  recovery. 
He  thought  his  trials  were  almost  over  ;  and  said,  that  yes- 
terday morning  he  had  hoped  to  end  the  sacred  services 
of  the  day  in  heaven.  Indeed  his  wish  is,  decidedly, 
to  depart,  in  the  confidence  that  he  shall  be  with  Christy 
tv/iich  is  far  better.  His  dejection  is  manifestly  nothing 
more  than  the  feeling  of  a  mind  exhausted  hy  its  own  ex- 
ertions : — for,  owing  to  his  deafness,  he  has  none  of  that 
refreshment  which  others  feel  from  conversation;  so  that 
the  amusements  of  his  mind  are,  in  fact,  equal  to  the  men- 
tal exertions  of  most  men. — His  feelings  on  Sunday  were 
very  distressing- both  to  himself  and  others,  and  were 
clearly  aggravated  by  a  degree  of  delirium,  arising  from 
fever.  Yesterday  and  to  day  he  has  been  quite  calm, 
and,  though  too  weak  to  speak  much,  is  evidently  in  a 
tranquil  state. — I  brought  my  eldest  boy  with  me,  that 
he  might  once  more  see  his  grandfather,  and  receive  his 
last  blessing.  He  spoke  to  him  for  a  few  minutes  this 
morning  in  a  very  affecting  manner,  and  pronounced  his 
blessing  upon  him,  in  a  way  which,  I  trust,  he  will  never 
forget.  May  God  grant,  that  he  may  walk  in  the  steps 
which  are  leading  his  grandfather  to  glory  !" 
'  The  day  on  which  this  letter  was  written  my  youngest 
brother  arrived  at  Aston.  For  myself,  a  still  more  ur- 
gent call  detained  me  fmm  the  scene,  to  which  duty,  as 
well  as  inclination,  would  otherwise  have  led  me,  and 
kept  me  at  Hull  more  than  a  week  longer.  Almost 
daily  letters,  however,  informed  me  of  the  state  of  things 
at  Aston. 

That  of  March  20  reported,  that  ^^  scarcely  a  hope  of 
recovery  remained,"  and  complained  still  of  gloom  oppres- 
sing the  revered  sufferer's  mind.  It  added  :  '*  No  doubt 
this  dejection  is  occasioned,  in  great  part,  by  disease,  as 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  477 

it  always  comes  on  with  the  (daily)  paroxysm  of  fever. 
His  hope  of  final  victory,  indeed,  seldom  wavers. — He 
may  linger  some  time,  and  I  do  trust  the  sun  of  righte- 
ousness will  yet  shine  upon  him,  and  that  we  shall  here 
witness  his  triumph :  but,  if  not,  faith  will  still  behold 
him  victorious  over  every  enemy.'' 

The  next  day's  letter  announced  nothing  new.  The 
following,  from  my  brother,  was  very  gratifying. 

''  March  22;  Thursday.  I  take  up  my  pen  with  far 
greater  pleasure  today  than  I  have  before  done,  to  write 
concerning  my  dear  father.  For,  though  I  can  say  no- 
thing at  all  favourable  respecting  his  health,  and  indeed 
he  appears  to  be  approaching  very  near  his  end,  yet, 
thanks  be  to  God,  the  clouds  which  overspread  his  mind 
are  breaking  away,  and  he  talks  with  a  placidity  and 
cherfulness  greater  than  I  have  before  seen  since  I  came. 
— He  passed  a  very  distressing  night,  owing  to  the  de- 
gree of  debility  induced  by  the  feverish  paroxysm  of  yes- 
terday :  indeed  I  much  doubted  whether  he  w^ould  live 
till  morning.  The  symptons  have,  however,  become 
more  mild,  and  this  morning  he  rose  above  his  feelings  of 
bodily  uneasiness  and  mental  depression,  and  seemed  to 
rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God, 

"  Just  as  we  had  assembled  for  family  worship,  he  sent 
to  say,  that  he  wished  us  to  meet  in  his  room,  and  join 
with  him  in  the  Lord's  supper,  as  a  means  of  grace,  through 
which  he  might  receive  that  consolation  which  he  was 
seeking.  It  is  utterly  impossible  to  describe  the  deeply 
interesting  and  affecting  scene.  The  whole  family  (with 
©ne  exception,)  and  an  old  parishioner  were  present. 
The  fervour  displayed  by  my  dear  father,  his  poor  ema- 
ciated form,  the  tears  and  sobs  of  all  present,  were  almost 
more  than  I  could  bear,  with  that  degree  of  composure, 
which  was  requisite  to  enable  me  to  read  the  service  so  as 


478  U13  LAST  ILLXiiSS,  [CllAF.   XVI, 

to  make  him  hear. — But  it  was  a  delightful  feeling,  and 
lias  done  more  to  cheer  our  downcast  hearts  that  can  well 
be  conceived.  It  seems  moreover  to  have  been  quite  a 
cordial  to  my  father's  spirits,  who  adopted  on  the  occa- 
sion the  words  oF  the  venerable  Simeon  in  the  prospect 
of  dissolution.  He  is  now  quite  calm  and  like  himself; 
and  can  clearly  discern  that  much  of  his  previous  uncom- 
fortable state  of  mind  was  merely  the  effect  of  fever. 

"  Diiring  a  period  of  great  distress  from  this  cause  yes- 
terday afternoon,  he  sent  for  me  for  the  purpose  of  men- 
tioning '  something  of  a  worldly  nature.'  I  expected,  of 
course,  that  he  had  some  communication  to  make  respect- 
ing the  arrangement  of  his  affairs.  But,  to  my  no  small 
surprise,  he  said,  It  was  time  for  planting  his  usual  crop 
of  potatoes  for  the  poor ;  and  he  begged  that  I  and  my 
brother  would  take  steps  for  doing  it,  in  a  manner  best 
calculated  to  secure  tlie  benefit  to  those  for  whom  it  was 
intended,  after  his  disease  ! — Here  was  an  instance  of 
'  the  ruling  passion  strong  in  death,'  such  as,  I  think,  has 
not  very  often  been  seen.*' 

The  '*  ruling  passion"  may  be  considered  as,  in  this 
instance,  combining  two  ingredients,  the  love  of  garden- 
ing, and  a  "  care  for  the  poor,"  which  led  my  father  to 
turn  every  nook  of  waste  land  to  account,  for  their 
benefit. 

This  evening  his  son-in-law,  the  Rev.  S.  King,  joined 
the  party  at  Aston,  from  London,  where  he  had  been  de- 
tained by  the  threatening  illness  of  his  own  father.  This 
we  shall  find  hereafter  alluded  to. 

My  sister's  letter  of  the  next  day  was  as  follows  : 

''  March  23.  Our  beloved  father  still  live?,  but  can- 
not, we  conceive,  continue  many  hours.  All  yesterday, 
and  through  the  night,  he  remained  in  so  blessed  a  state 
of  mind,  that  our  joy  and  gratitude  almost  sw allowed  up 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  47^ 

every  other  feeling.'^-^Sorae  sentences  of  great  joy  and 
confidence  are  then  reported,  which  will  afterwards  occur 
among  the  memorandums  taken  of  what  fell  from  him  ; 
and  it  is  added  :  ^'  Erelong,  however,  a  slight  flush  on  Im 
cheek  made  us  fear  that  the  fever  was  returning ;  and 
our  fears  were  soon  realized.  The  paroxysm  came  on 
with  great  violence,  and  with  it  that  confusion  and  gloom, 
which  are  so  distressing  to  himself  and  to  us.  He  is  more 
calm  now,  though  in  a  state  of  extreme  suffering.  He 
longs  ^or  his  release,  and  says,  ^  All  will  be  well  at  last.^ 
Great  submission  to  God  is  displayed  throughout,  and 
T^hou  art  righteous  is  his  language. — We  are  greatly 
agitated  between  painful  and  pleasant  feelings  :  but  I  trust 
God  is  with  us.  The  scene  is  instructive  beyond  ex- 
pression :  and  I  have  felt  my  faith  so  confirmed,  that 
I  can  hardly  help  imagining  it  will  never  more  be 
shaken, — We  try  to  note  down  what  we  can ;  but  who  can 
describe  the  look,  the  manner  P  .... 

^'  P.  S.  Afternoon.  Dr.  Slater  is  here,  and  my  fa- 
ther has  talked  with  amazing  energy,  and  a  most  minute 
remembrance  of  all  that  has  passed. — Dr.  S.  can  hardly 
think  his  end  is  veri/  near.^ 

On  Saturday,  March  24,  my  sister  wrote  : — "  Our  be- 
loved father  still  lives,  in  great  suffering,  but  in  a  state 
of  mind,  vi^hich,  though  varying,  is  highly  delightful  to 
all  who  witness  it.  I  am  so  grieved  that  you  are  deprived 
of  this  consolation,  which  at  times  seems  to  raise  us  above 
every  painful  feeling,  that  I  am  determined  to  attempt 
copying  some  things  which  we  have  noted  down,  during 
the  last  few  days,  though  aware  that  they  will  give  you 
little  idea  indeed  of  what  has  passed.''— These  memo- 
randums will  appear  hereafter.  In  conclusion  she  adds  : 
-'  To  day  he  is  free  from  fever,  and  in  such  a  state,  that,, 
were  he  younger,  there  would  be  little  doubt  of  liis  reco 


480  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVI. 

very.  But  we  dare  not  entertain  such  an  idea.  He 
greatly  longs  to  depart,  and  is  disquieted  at  the  thought 
of  what  really  is  not  very  improbable, — a  lingering  illness. 
His  constitution  is  wonderful.^' .... 

"  I  have  given  you  some  of  our  dear  father's  words  : 
but  the  way  in  which  they  were  spoken  is  beyond  all  de- 
scription.'' 

Dr.  Slater  of  Wycombe  is  the  physician  here  repeat- 
edly referred  to  ;  who,  on  these  and  many  other  occa- 
sions, visited  ray  father,  at  the  distance  of  twenty  miles, 
as,  strictly  speaking,  a  '"  professional /r^er^c?," — without 
any  other  remuneration  than  that  which  his  generous  and 
ardent  mind  derived  from  ministering  to  one  whom  he 
revered  and  loved. 

The  same  day  a  letter  to  the  Rev.  D.  Wilson  observes: 
"  He  has,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  had  a  violent  pa- 
roxysm of  fever  every  day  for  a  fortnight."  And,  after 
reporting  his  remark  on  Mr.  W.'s  message  to  him,  which 
will  be  noticed  elsewhere,  proceeds  :  "  Humility  is  con- 
spicuous in  him  to  a  surprising  degree,  united  with  a  most 
deep  sense  of  the  awful  responsibility  which  rests  on  him, 
in  consequence  of  his  having  written  so  much  on  such 
important  subjects." 

Monday's  letter  only  reports  him  "  much  weaker  in 
body,  but  more  calm  in  mind  ;  anxious  for  departure,  but 
yet  willing  to  stay  if  he  might  do  any  spiritual  good  to 
any  one." 

On  Tuesday,  March  27,  my  brother  wrote  as  follows : 
— "  Our  dear  father  appeared  all  yesterday  evening  in  a 
very  tranquil  state,  and  slept  much  ;  but  expecting  that 
he  should  not  live  through  tlie  night.  About  half  past 
two  this  morning,  Mr.  Dawes  went  to  him,  and  found 
that  he  had  slept  comfortably.  His  pulse  was  then  only 
eighty^ifthe  minute.     He  went  to  him  again  at  half  past 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  481 

six,  and  was  astonished  to  find  that  it  had  risen  to  one 
hundred  and  fifty-six  !  and  was  very  feeble,  fluttering, 
and  irregular  :  in  short,  every  symptom  almost  portend- 
ed a  speedv  dissolution,  and  all  the  family  were  collected 
in  the  room  expecting  his  departure.  But  a  cordial 
draught  had  the  effect  of  relieving  the  urgent  symptoms ; 
and,  in  consequence  of  this  little  revival,  we  have  been 
favoured,  yet  exquisitely  wounded,  with  a  number  of 
most  touching  expressions  of  his  affectionate  regard  ;  and 
have  gained  a  very  interesting  view  of  the  state  of  his 
mind.  Wha  we  can  hear  him  say,  while  sitting  by  his 
bed-side,  has  reminded  me  of  an  operation  said  to  have 
been  lately  performed  in  France,  by  which,  a  part  of  the 
ribs  being  removed,  it  was  discovered  that  the  pericar- 
dium in  the  living  subject  is  transparent,  and  the  whole 
heart  was  seen  performing  all  its  functions.  You  will  un- 
derstand the  application  of  this  from  the  expression  of 
one  of  his  truly  affectionate  servants :  Oh,  what  a  com- 
fort it  is,  that  my  master  thinks  aloud,^ — His  desires  after 
sipritual  enjoyments  appear  unbounded  ;  and  he  cannot 
be  fully  satisfied,  because  he  cannot  enjoy  on  earth  what 
belongs  only  to  heaven. 

"  He  sleeps  a  good  deal  this  morning :  but  we  see,  or 
think  we  see,  the  rapid  approaches  of  death :  so  that  I 
should  not  wonder,  if  before  the  post-hour  I  should  have 
to  announce  to  you,  that  the  Lord  has  heard  his  prayer?, 
and  given  him  a  release  from  all  his  troubles  and  sufferings. 
Indeed,  humanely  speaking,  this  would  have  taken  place 
long  ere  this  time,  had  it  not  been  for  the  exceedingly 
great  and  unremitting  attention  of  Mr.  Dawes,  who  has 
watched  him  by  night  as  well  as  by  day,  and,  in  a  most 
skilful  manner,  applied  every  palliative,  which  the  na- 
ture of  the  case  could  admit.  I  cannot  but  look  on  it, 
as  a  very  merciful  interposition  of  providence,  that,  at  a 

3P 


482  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [CllAP.   XVI. 

period  of  life  when  my  father  wanted  the  active  attend 
ance  of  a  young  person,  and  all  his  own  children  were 
removed  from  him,  such  a  one  was  found  to  supply  our 
place.  Dawes,  indeed,  seems  to  love  him  as  if  he  were 
one  of  his  own  children  :  or,  if  there  be  (as  indeed 
there  must  be)  the  absence  of  the  pecular  feelings  of  na- 
tural affection,  that  very  circumstance  better  qualifies  hini 
for  the  kind  ofiice  which  he  has  sustained  during  this 
trying  season ;  by  enabling  him  to  apply  his  judgment  to 
the  case,  with  somewhat  more  coolness  than  we  could 
have  done,  even  had  we  possessed  equal  skill." 

The  circumstance  noticed  in  this  letter,  and  on  which 
both  my  brother  and  the  domestic  congratulate  themselves, 
was  very  much  owing  to  the  deafness  of  my  dear  father, 
which  led  him  to  express  audibly  whatever  passed  in  his 
mind,  almost  without  being  aware  of  it. 

The  latter  part  of  the  letter,  I  have  thought  it  due  to 
the  affection  and  the  services  of  a  very  promising  young 
man  to  insert.  Mr.  W.  R.  Dawes,  who  has  been  alrea- 
dy alluded  to  as  first  my  father's  pupil,  and  subsequent- 
ly his  literary  assistant,  has  for  some  time  past  regularly 
devoted  himself  to  the  medical  profession,  with  every 
prospect  of  credit  to  himself  and  advantage  to  others  ; 
and  his  residence  in  the  house  was  no  doubt  a  great  com- 
fort and  assistance  both  to  the  venerable  sufferer,  and  his 
mourning  family,  during  the  scenes  which  these  letters 
describe. 

This  evening  my  fathers  nephew,  the  Rev.  T.  Web- 
ster, arrived,  to  take  a  last  farewell  of  his  uncle. 

The  account  sent  me  the  next  day  was  very  gratifying, 
but  I  was  not  in  Hull  to  receive  it.  Having  been  re- 
leased by  a  change  of  circumstances  at  home,  I  that  day 
set  out  for  Aston,  where  I  arrived  the  next  evening. 
Still,  however,  communications  were  continued  to  the 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  483 

absent  members  of  the  family,  and  to  some  friends,  which 
will  furnish  me  with  further  extracts.  My  sister's  let- 
ter of  this  day  (Wednesday,  March  28,)  contained  the 
following  sentences  : — 

^'  Our  beloved  father  is  still  with  us ;  and,  did  not  his 
pulse  indicate  approaching  dissolution,  we  should  scarce- 
ly think  it  possible  that  a  dying  man  could  speak  and 
think  with  the  energy  and  clearness  he  does.  0  that 
you  were  here  !  How  would  it  rejoice  your  heart  to 
witness  his  calm  and  heavenly  spirit ;  his  humility,  faith, 
tenderness,  and  love.  He  seems  the  most  like  his  Sa- 
viour of  any  mortal  I  ever  beheld  :  yet,  still  longing  for 
more  holiness.  Never,  indeed,  will  he  be  satisfied  till 
he  enters  the  realms  of  eternal  bliss. — The  agitation  of 
mind,  under  which  he  did  labour,  we  trust,  is  finally 
dispersed.  He  sometimes  expresses  a  fear  of  the  last 
struggle  :  yet,  in  general,  speaks  of  it  with  composure 
and  confidence. — I  cannot  tell  you  how  our  dread  of  se- 
paration from  him  is  increased,  since  he  has  shewn  such 
tender  affection,  and  has  become  so  ready  to  talk  to  us  all. 
....  But  I  trust  God  will  support  us,  and  that  we  shall 
all  derive  great  and  lasting  benefit  from  the  scene  passing 
before  us." 

Friday,  March  30,  I  thus  made  my  report  of  the  slate 
in  which  I  found  things  : 

ii  It  was  not  till  some  hours  after  my  arrival  that  I 
could  conveniently  see  my  dear  father,  as  he  was,  and  li  ,d 
been  through  the  day,  in  a  slumbering  state ;  and,  as  an 
accession  of  fever  was  then  coming  on,  it  was  desirable 
that  he  should  be  kept  quiet.  He  had  expressed  a  fear, 
that,  if  I  came,  it  would  add  to  his  troubles,  by  producing 
anxiety  for  i/ou  ;  and,  when  I  saw  him,  he  asked,  with 
whom  I  had  left  you  in  charge. 

"  His  illness  has  been  quite  extraordinary  for  one  of  his 


484  Ills  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVL 

age.  andsomucli  reduced  :  the  fever  has  heen  so  violent — 
his  colour;  at  times,  ahiiost  resembling  mahogany — and 
his  pulse  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  one  hundred  and 
seventy. — Dr.  Slater  has  said,  since  Tuesday  in  last  week, 
that  he  could  do  nothing  for  his  restoration.  He  says 
himself,  that  the  powers  of  animal  life  feel  undiminished, 
and  he  rather  dreads  lying  long  in  this  state. — Being 
under  the  influence  of  fever  last  night,  he  had  lost  sight 
of  the  joyful  feelings  and  exulting  expressions  of  which 
you  have  been  informed,  and  was  but  gloomy.  He  had 
a  tolerably  quiet  night,  and  was  this  morning  more  free 
from  fever,  but  looked  very  death -like.  His  language 
was  more  cheerful,  and  his  prayers  of  an  elevated  kind  ; 
as,  '  that  he  might  be  one  of  those  in  whom  Christ  should 
come  to  be  glorified  in  that  day,'^  <^c. — He  rather  tri- 
umphed in  the  birth  of  our  little  girl,  and  implored  bles- 
sings on  *  his  twenty-one  grand-children.'  He  speaks 
from  time  to  time,  more  impressively  and  with  more  ani- 
mation to  his  grandson  Thomas,  than  to  almost  any  one 
else.     But  he  says  less  than  he  has  done,  and  is  more 

disposed  to  slumber Poor  Betty  Moulder  looks 

confidently  past  all  present  sufferings,  and  past  the  remain- 
der of  her  own  prospects  in  this  life,  to  the  event  of  re- 
joining him  in  glory.  She  very  simply  and  fervently  said 
to  him  the  other  day,  ^  0,  sir,  when  I  get  to  heaven,  and 
have  seen  Jesus  Christ,  the  very  next  person  I  shall  ask 
for  will  be  you  !'  " 

I  continue  my  extracts,  and  shall  have  need  to  make  very 
little  addition  to  them. 

April  1st,  Sunday.  ^*  The  day  before  yesterday  my 
father  seemed  very  weak  and  sinking,  and  we  thought  he 
would  not  live  through  the  night :  but  yesterday  he  was 
stronger,  and  to  day  is  better,  I  think,  than  on  Friday. 
Upon  the  whole,  he  has  been  more  cheerful.'' 


1821.]  AND   DEATH.  485 

April  3d,  Tuesday.  "  Several  fresh  and  unfavour- 
able symptoms  have  appeared — a  degree  of  diai'rhrp.a. 
which  cannot  be  checked,  and  some  spots  upon  the  feet 
which  threaten  mortification.  He  is,  indeed  a  pitiable 
object  of  weakness  and  suffering  :  but  his  mind  is,  in  most 
respects  vigorous,  and  his  memory  quick  and  correct  His 
paroxysms  of  fever  have  not  lately  come  on  as  they  did, 
and  his  mind  has  in  consequence  been  more  cahn  and 
peaceful :  but  his  pulse  has  maintained  the  extraordinary 
height  I  before  mentioned — one  hundred  and  seventy. 
It  is  most  edifying  to  observe  his  solemn  earnestness,  pro- 
found humility,  cleaving  to  Christ  alone,  and  fervent  love 
and  kindness  to  all  about  him.  His  attention  to  the  feel- 
ings of  every  body  is  surprising  and  beautiful.  His 
extreme  deafness  is  a  sad  obstruction,  and  causes  him  to 
be  left  almost  to  his  own  resources.  We  can  attempt  lit- 
tle by  address  to  him  :  but  he  most  kindly  receives  any 
hint  which  one  suggests  by  shouting  in  his  ear.  He  has 
dreaded  living  long  under  increasing  suffering,  lest  this 
should  lead  him  to  impatience.  The  other  night,  when 
he  asked,  under  these  apprehensions,  '  When  will  this 
end  ?'  I  replied,  laying  my  head  down  by  his,  '  In  God's 
good  time.'  '  Ah,'  he  said,  '  that  is  a  good  expression — 
God's  goodtim^  :  I  thank  you  for  it :'  and  he  has  dwelt 
upon  it  ever  since,  and  mentioned  it  almost  every  time  I 
have  seen  him." 

To  the  Rev.  D.  Wilson,  April  5th,  Thursday.  "  My 
very  dear  friend,  1  have  now  been  here  a  week,  watch- 
ing over  the  dying  bed  of  my  dear  honoured  father,  and 
daily  expecting  his  dissolution.  It  is  a  deeply  affecting 
and  edifying  scene  ;  and  what  passed  before  I  could  come, 
was,  I  suppose,  more  interesting  still.  In  every  thing 
but  comfort  his  state  may  be  said  to  be  even  sublimely 
Christian,     Such  an  awful  sense  of  eternal  things,  of  the 


486  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVI. 

evil  of  sin,  and  of  the  holiness  of  God — such  profound 
self-abasement — such  cleaving  unto  Christ  alone — such 
such  patience,  resignation,  and  unlimited  submission  to  the 
will  of  God — such  a  constant  spirit  of  fervent  prayer 
— such  pouring  forth  of  blessings  on  all  around  him — with 
such  minute  and  tender  attention  to  all  their  feelings — 
it  is  truly  admirable  to  behold.  His  state  is  bright  in 
every  one's  view  but  his  own.  To  his  own  apprehension, 
he  in  great  measure  walks  in  darkness,  I  have  myself 
scarcely  witnessed  a  gleam  oijoy.  His  habitual  temper 
is  rather  that  which  the  words  of  Job  describe.  Though 
he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  hijn. — ^This  is  often  pain- 
ful, sometimes  it  is  discouraging  to  our  feelings  :  yet,  we 
are  sensible  that  there  is  a  call  upon  us  for  unbounded 
gratitude  and  praise. 

"  Indeed,  it  cannot  be  wondered  at,  that  my  dear  fa- 
ther should  have  much  to  contend  with,  considering  how 
his  mind  has  been  absolutely  worn  down  by  labour,  with- 
out intermission  or  recreation — the  extraordinary  fact  of 
his  pulse  having  been  now  for  ten  days  at  one  hundred 
and  seventy — and  his  deafness,  which  almost  entirely 
shuts  him  up,  and  leaves  him  to  his  own  resources.  We 
cannot  pray  with  him,  to  make  him  hear.  Thrice,  in- 
deed, he  has  received  the  sacrament,  with  edifying  and 
most  affecting  solemnity  ;  and  then,  from  his  knowledge 
of  the  words,  aided  by  painful  vociferation  on  the  part 
of  the  person  officiating,  he  could  follow  the  service.  One 
of  these  occasions  was  succeeded  with  blessed  relief  and 
comfort  to  his  mind :  but,  as  he  says,  the  clouds  return 
after  the  rain. — I  am  very  shy  of  addressing  one,  to  whom 
I  so  much  look  up  :  but  occasionally  the  attempt  to  convey 
to  his  ear  some  sentence  of  God's  word  has  succeeded ;  and 
it  is  so  kindly  und  thankfully  received  as  is  very  affecting. 
But  we  arc  obliged  to  keep,  on  these  occasions,  almost 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  487 

entirely  to  first  principles— such  as  the  coming  of  the  sinner 

to  the  Saviour A  great  part  of  his  time  he  has  prayed 

and  thought  aloud,  as  insensible  of  the  presence  of  any 
fellow  creature  ;  and  the  train  of  his  thoughts,  thus  dis- 
covered, has  been  striking,  and  often  highly  elevated. 
Thus  :  '  Posthumous  reputation  !  the  veriest  bubble  with 
which  the  devil  ever  deluded  a  wretched  mortal.  But 
posthumous  i<5e/M/?2e*5, — in  that  there  is  indeed  something. 
That  what  was  Moses  desired,  and  Joshua,  and  David, 
and  the  prophets  ;  the  apostles  also,  Peter,  and  Paul,  and 
John  ;  and  most  of  all  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. — Again  ; 
'  0  Lord,  abhor  me  not — though  I  be  indeed  abhorrible, 
and  abhor  myself!  Say  not.  Thou  filthy  soul,  continue 
filthy  still:  but  rather  say,  I  will,  he  thou  clean.^ " 

April  9th,  Monday.  "  The  only  fresh  symptom  is 
great  drowsiness,  which  is  thought  some  indication  of  ef- 
fusion on  the  brain  ;  the  effect  of  which  might  be  ex- 
pected to  be  stupor  and  insensibility  :  and  his  continu* 
ance  would  then,  probably,  not  be  long.  He  greatly 
needs  the  pity  and  prayers  of  you  all,  and  earnestly  asks 
them." 

April  llth,  Wednesday.  "  My  dear  father  still  con- 
tinues, and,  I  hope,  suffers  less,  though  he  grows  much 
weaker.  Thank  God,  his  gloom  seems  very  much  to 
have  dispersed.  '  I  have  not,'  he  latelv  said,  '  that  fear 
of  death  which  jl  had.'  (Qu.  of  the  act  of  dying?) 
And  yesterday  :  '  I  find  myself  much  more  able  to  ap- 
proach unto  God  than  I  was  :  butsuch  asenseof  unworthi- 
ness  and  defilement,  as  I  cannot  express.' — On  parting 
with  us  last  night  he  said,  '  God  knows  how  well  I  love 
you  all :  but  I  have  no  wish  to  see  any  of  you  again  in 
this  world.     Do  not  think  this  cruel.'  " 

My  brothers  had  been  obliged  to  return  to  their  re- 


488  HIS  LAsr  ILLNESS,  [Chap.  XVL 

spective  homes  on  Tuesday,  and  did  not  reach  Aston 
again  till  after  his  death. 

To  the  Rev.  Dr.  K  viand.  Bristol,  Friday,  April  13. — 
^'  I  am  happy  to  say,  as  his  weakness  increases,  I  hope 
his  positive  suflering  is  habitually  less;  and  his  mind  ap- 
pears generally  calm  and  cheerful.  He  says  very  little; 
but  what  he  does  drop  is  of  a  gratifying  kind. — On  the 
whole,  his  closing  scene,  notwithstanding  these  passing 
ciouds,  is  evidently  worthy  of  his  Christian  character  and 
hopes  :  and  we  have  great  cause  to  bless  God  without 
ceasing,  on  his  behalf.  Certainly  we  ought  also  to  be 
much  edified  and  excited  by  what  we  witness. — At  times 
he  expresses  considerable  apprehension  of  the  pang  of 
death  itself.  I  hope,  in  this  his  fears  may  prove  ground- 
less. I  am  sure  your  prayers  for  him  will  not  be  want- 
ing while  he  continues  ;  and  when  any  change  takes  place 
we  will  not  fail  to  inform  you.'' 

At  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  Monday,  April  16th, 
I  wrote  to  my  daughter,  at  Hull,  as  follows  : 

''  Half  an  hour  ago,  your  dear  blessed  grandpappa 
ceased  to  b?^eathe.  It  was  literally  this  and  no  more. 
Thus  has  he  eventually  been  spared  even  the  least  object 
of  his  fear.  His  mind  had  been  peaceful  and  happy  of 
late.  Oh  how  peaceful  does  he  now  look !  Not  a  groan, 
not  a  sigh  escaped  him  at  the  end.  We  are  as  composed 
as  could  be  expected. — But  I  can  hardly  save  the  post. — 
May  our  last  end  belike  his!" 

The  next  day  I  wrote  home  a  more  particular  account 
of  the  closing  scene,  than  either  the  time  or  the  circum- 
stances would  allow  that  evening. 

April  17th,  Tuesday.  "  For  two  days  my  dear  iiither 
coughed  almost  incessantly,  though  not  violently;  which 
was  accompanied  with  frequent  expectoration.  But  on 
Saturdav  this  almost  entirely  ceased.     In  consequence 


1821.]  AND   DEATH.  489 

an  increased  difficulty  of  breathing  succeeded,  and  we 
feared  suffocation  might  take  place.  On  Sunday  night 
he  was  very  ill,  so  as  to  make  us  apprehend  his  death  was 
at  hand.  On  Monday  morning  he  was,  for  a  time,  a  good 
deal  better :  but  the  oppression  returned  and  increased. 
Nothing  immediate  was  anticipated,  when  his  death  ac- 
tually approached.  I  had  taken  a  walk,  and  on  my  re- 
turn visited  his  chamber.  We  then  all  came  down  to  tea ; 
in  the  course  of  which  it  was  remarked,  that  it  did  not 
seem  quite  well  for  him  to  be  left  attended  only  by  a  ser- 
vant, as  her  grief  appeared  to  distress  him.  I  said,  I 
would  go  up  immediately.  I  did  so  :  but  Dawes  had  an- 
ticipated me.  He  had  found  my  father  worse,  dismissed 
the  servant,  and  was  supporting  him,  nearly  in  an  erect 
posture,  upon  his  arm.  I  said,  '  This  cannot  surely  last 
long  :'  and  D.  replied,  '  Not  through  the  night,  I  think.' 
I  looked  in  his  face,  and  saw  his  eyes  in  some  degree  turn 
upwards,  which  I  pointed  out  to  D.  (who  was  rather  be- 
hind him,)  and  he  immediately  said,  ^  You  had  better  tell 
those  who  wish  to  see  him  again  to  come.'  I  did  so  in  a 
calm  manner,  and  went  before  them.  He  was  sinking  as 
quietly  as  an  infant  dropping  asleep,  and  with  a  beautiful 
look  of  composure.  My  mother  and  sister  wished  to  come 
in,  and,  on  my  saying  there  was  nothing  to  shock  them, 
they  did  so.  We  all  looked  on  for  a  minute  or  two,  while 
the  last  respirations  quietly  ebbed  away — so  to  speak. 
So  far  from  feeling  shocked,  it  was  a  relief  to  all  our  minds 
to  see  such  labour,  as  his  breathing  had  been,  subside  into 
such  sweet  peace  and  ease. — He  had  been  peaceful  and 
happy,  on  the  whole,  for  several  days,  and  on  Sunday, 
and  on  the  morning  of  Monday,  bad  said  some  delightful 
things. — His  mind  was  clear  to  the  last  moment ;  and,  I 
believe,  in  the  article  of  death  itself,  he  suffered  much 
less  than  for  many  hours,  or  even  days  before.— The  last 

3Q 


490  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVI. 

effort  which  he  made  was  to  stretch  out  his  hand  to  his 
servant,  when  she  was  about  to  leave  the  room.  A  very 
little  time  before  he  had  affectionately  shaken  hands  with 
me. — He  had  been  shaved  only  two  hours  and  a  half  be- 
fore his  death,  and  at  that  time  he  opened  his  shirt-neck, 
and  put  all  out  of  the  way  for  the  operation. 

^'  All  that  he  has  taught  and  done  is  now  sealed  by  his 
dying  testimony,  and  his  dying  example.  jYo  blot  can 
now  come  upon  it  from  him  ;  which  was  so  long  and  so 
much  the  object  of  his  prayers.  Blessed  be  God  ! — 
More  heavenly  dispositions,  surely,  could  not  be  exhibit- 
ed than  prevailed  in  him  throughout  his  illness — even 
when  he  walked  in  dai^kness. — Not  one  of  all  his  fears  has 
been  realized:  indeed,  they  all  vanished  away  one  by  one. 
The  last  which  he  expressed,  was,  on  Friday,  of  the  agony 
of  death  :  but  where  was  the  agony  to  him?  Peace,  peace, 
perfect  peace !  All  our  hopes  have  been  exceeded.  The  close 
has  been  a  cordial  to  us  all  :  and  how  substantial  the  comfort ! 
The  constant  prevalence  of  such  tempers,  under  the 
most  ti  ying  of  circumstances, — how  much  superior  an 
evidence  is  this,  to  any  degree  of  confidence  unsupport- 
ed by  even  a  like  measure  of  meetness  for  the  inherita?ice 
of  the  saints  in  light  / .  .  .  .  He  was  pouring  out  his 
blessings  and  prayers  for  the  dear  children  to  a  very  late 
period  ;  particularly  on  Saturday  night,  (though  so  very 
ill,)  when  reminded  that  it  was  Jane's  birth-day.'^ 

The  following  is  the  account  of  the  same  event  furnished 
to  Mr.  Wilson  by  the  faithful  and  affectionate  young  friend^ 
in  whose  arms  my  father  expired  : — 

"  One  of  his  last  efforts  was  to  give  his  hand  to  his  weep- 
ing servant ;  which  was  a  beautiful  evidence  that  the  ten- 
der attention  to  the  feelings  of  those  around  him,  which 
marked  his  whole  illness,  continued  to  form  a  prominent 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  '  491 

feature  in  his  state  of  mind  even  to  the  last.  After  this, 
which  took  place  about  five  minutes  before  his  death,  he 
appeared  to  be  lost  in  prayer;  but  just  at  the  moment 
when  he  reclined  his  head  on  my  breast,  the  expression  of 
his  countenance  suddenly  changed  from  that  of  prayer, 
and  indicated,  as  I  conceived,  a  transition  to  feelings  of 
admiring  and  adoring  praise,  with  a  calmness  and  peace 
which  are  quite  inexpressible.  The  idea  strongly  im  pressed 
upon  ray  mind  was,  that  the  vail  which  intercepts  eternal 
things  from  our  view  was  removed,  and  that,  like  Ste- 
phen, he  saw  things  invisible  to  mortal  eye.'' 

Since  these  pages  were  prepared  for  the  press,  another 
account  of  the  closing  scene,  drawn  up  by  my  sister,  only 
as  a  private  memorandum,  has  come  into  my  hands,  and 
I  feel  unwilling  to  withhold  it. 

"  On  the  evening  of  Sunday  his  breath  became  dread- 
fully oppressed,  and  we  stood  by  in  great  alarm  and  dis- 
tress, witnessing  his  agonies.  He  was  delightfully  calm 
and  tenderly  affectionate :  desired  us  to  go  to  supper,  as 
we  needed  refreshment,  and  gave  us  his  parting  blessing. 
He  said  to  me,  '  Give  my  dying  blessing  to  your  husband, 
and  his  father  and  mother.' 

"  He  however  revived  again,  and  on  Monday  seemed 
rather  better ;  though  his  inability  to  throw  off  the  phlegm, 
which  accumulated  in  great  quantities,  convinced  us  that 
his  end  was  approaching. 

''  On  Mr.  D.'s  feeling  his  pulse,  he  inquired,  '  Any 
change  ?  Any  token  for  good  ?'  Mr.  D.  answered, 
'  I  think  you  are  not  so  ill  as  you  were  in  the  morning.' 
^  Very  well,'  was  his  reply  :  <Thy  will,  0  Lord,  be  done  1' 

"  About  the  middle  of  the  day,  fever  again  came  on, 
and  he  appeared  restless  and  distressed.  He  said,  '  Some 
hours  this  morning  passed  vtry  comfortably.     It  was 


492  Ills  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVI. 

something  like  godliness  :  but  now  my  mind  is  confused^ 
and  I  cannot  fix  my  thoughts.' — His  breath  in  the  after- 
noon became  short,  and  his  sufferings  appeared  great;  but 
on  my  mother's  lamenting  his  distress  in  breathing,  he 
said,  '  It  is  by  no  means  so  great  as  last  night/ — He  had 
frequently  said  in  the  preceding  week,  when  we  thought 
him  d\ing,  laying  his  hand  on  his  chest,  '  Nothing  fails 
hc7'e  :  I  may  live  weeks  as  I  now  am.'  But  for  the  last 
day  or  two  he  had  perceived  a  difference  in  this  respect, 
and  often  noticed  it,  saying,  '  Here  it  is — the  oppression 
is  dreadful  !  Lord  support  me  !  Receive  my  spirit !' 
— About  four  or  ^\^  o'clock  the  flush  left  his  face,  and 
he  became  calm,  and  again  able  to  resume  his  constant 
work  of  prayer  and  praise.  He,  however,  spoke  little  to 
be  understood,  but  his  hands  and  eyes  were  continually 
lifted  up  to  heaven.  He  occasionally  looked  round  upon 
us  with  unutterable  tenderness  and  affection,  though 
sometimes  with  a  mixture  of  reproach  when  he  witnessed 
our  tears.  His  countenance  expressed  what  he  had  said 
to  my  mother  a  day  or  two  before  :  '  Can  any  rational 
being  grieve  at  my  departure  ?  If  you  thought  I  was 
going  to  be  miserable,  you  might  mourn ;  but  surely  not 
as  it  is.'  On  her  reply,  that  she  could  not  help  it,  he  said, 
^  Nature  loill  have  its  first  burst  of  sorrow  :  but  you  will 
soon  learn  to  view  the  subject  in  its  true  light.' 

"  He  seemed  about  half  past  six  almost  disquieted  b> 
seeing  the  bitter  distress  of  a  servant  who  sat  by  him,  and 
repeatedly  shook  his  head  as  a  sign  that  she  should  mo- 
derate her  grief.  As  her  feelings  became  ungovernable, 
she  rose  to  leave  the  room  :  which  when  he  perceived,  he 
made  an  attempt  to  take  his  hand  out  of  bed,  to  give  her 
before  she  went :  but  his  weakness  prevented  his  succeed- 
ing. It  was  his  last  effort.  He  soon  after  made  a  sign  to  Mr .  D. 
to  raise  his  head.  Mr.  D .  tookhira  in  his  arms;  he  laid  his  head 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  493 

on  his  shoulder,  and  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven  :  a  look  of  un- 
utterable joy,  an  expression  of  glory  begun,  came  over  his 
whole  countenance,  and  in  a  few  minutes,  without  sigh  or 
struggle,  without  even  a  discomposed  feature,  he  sweetly 
slept  in  Jesus.  We  all,  even  my  poor  mother,  stood  by 
and  were  comforted.  We  could  hardly  conceive  it  could 
be  death  ;  and  when  assured  by  Mr.  D.,  who  still  held 
him  in  his  arms,  that  the  heart  had  ceased  to  beat,  our 
first  words  were  praise  and  thanksgiving  to  that  God,  who 
had  delivered  him  from  every  fear,  from  all  evil,  and  re- 
ceived him  to  his  eternal  kingdom  and  glory. — We  soon 
indeed  awoke  to  the  sense  of  our  own  irreparable  loss. 
To  the  end  of  life  we  must  mourn  such  a  wise  counsellor, 
bright  example,  and  fervent  intercessor.  Yet  never  can 
we  think  of  him  without  blessing  and  praising  God  on  his 
behalf,  for  all  he  did /or  him  and  by  him  ;  for  having  so 
long  preserved  to  us  such  a  treasure, — even  till,  we  hum- 
bly trust,  we  through  grace  have  a  blessed  hope  of  all 
being  at  length  re-united  with  him  in  the  realms  of  endless 
bliss  ! 

^'  It  is  not  easy  to  describe  the  deep  grief  of  his  peo- 
ple, when  the  mournful  event  was  made  known  in  the 
village  and  neighbourhood.  '  Our/nV/zt/is  gone  !'  '  We 
have  lost  omy  friend  /'  were  the  lamentations  of  the  poor 
on  every  side.  Even  the  most  stupid  and  thoughtless  of 
his  parishioners  were  roused  to  feeling  on  this  occasion. 
Numbers  of  the  parish  and  neighbourhood  came  to  take 
a  last  look,  and  stood  by  the  corpse  overwhelmed  with 
grief,—  many  of  whom  had  paid  little  attention  to  his  in- 
structions while  living." 

Mr.  Wilson  remarks: — "Upon  such  a  departure  no 
feeling  but  that  of  gratitude  and  joy  can  arise  in  the 
Christiaa's  breast,  unless  perhaps  a  momentary  regret 


494  HIS   LAST  ILLNESSj  [ChAP.  XVL 

should  cross  the  mind  for  the  extremity  of  suffering 
wliich  our  friend  was  called  to  endure.  But  that  will 
soon  subside  into  submission,  when  we  recollect  the  calm- 
ness with  which  the  blessed  apostle  in  our  text  speaks  of 
his  own  still  more  violent  death.  For  the  Christian  will 
heboid  in  both,  not  so  much  the  external  circumstances 
or  the  personal  anguish,  as  the  principle  on  which  they 
w^ere  supported,  and  the  acceptance  with  which  they  were 
crowned.  Yes,  my  brethren,  the  dissolution  of  our  ven- 
erable friend,  though  not,  like  the  inspired  apostle's,  a 
martyrdom  for  the  cause  of  Christ,  in  which  he  poured 
out  his  blood  as  a  libation  ;  yet,  so  far  as  intense  sufferings 
from  the  ordinary  attacks  of  disease,  and  the  superadded 
assaults  of  Satan,  gave  him  the  occasion  of  testifying  his 
faith  and  patience,  of  confirming  his  fidelity  to  Christ, 
of  displaying  for  the  instruction  and  encouragement  of 
the  surviving  church,  a  most  affecting  scene  of  a  dying 
disciple  adhering  to  his  Saviour  under  the  bitterest 
temptations  and  most  oppressive  conflicts,  and  then  fal- 
ling asleep  with  peace  and  resignation  ;  his  death  was  a 
sacred  act,  the  consummation  of  his  devotedness  to  God. 
And  his  composure,  not  only  in  contemplating  his  depar- 
ture when  near,  but  in  enduring  it  and  supporting  it  when 
it  arrived,  surrounded  as  it  was  with  circumstances  calcu- 
lated to  dismay  an  ordinary  faith,  formed  a  striking  ex- 
emplification of  the  Christian  fortitude  which  is  so  nobly 
evinced  by  the  blessed  apostle  in  the  triumphant  passage 
we  have  been  considering/' 

The  funeral  took  place  on  the  Monday  following,  April 
23.  It  was  our  intention  to  act  strictly  according  to  his 
own  directions,  by  making  it  as  plain  and  private  as  pos- 
sible. But,  as  the  hour  approached,  numbers  of  those 
who  had  enjoyed  his  acquaintance,  withmany  others  who 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  495 

^^  esteemed  him  highly  in  love  for  his  work's  sake/^ — 
some  of  them  coming  from  a  very  considerable  distance, 
— began  to  collect  around  the  church  and  the  parsonage- 
house.     On  the  procession  leaving  the  garden-gate,  it 
was  attended  by  sixteen  clergymen ;  while  thirty  or  for- 
ty respectable  females,   in  full  mourning,  stood  ready,  in 
double  line,  to  join  it  as  it  passed  towards  the  church. 
That  little  building  was  more  crowded,   probably,    than 
on  any  former  occasion  ;  and  a  large  number  of  persons 
collected  round  the  windows,  unable  to  enterfor  want  of 
room.     In  the  absence  of  the  Rev.  J.  H.  Barber,  (the 
present  rector,)  who  had  been  disappointed  of  arriving 
in  time,  the  funeral  service  was  read  by  the  Rev.  S.  B. 
Mathews,  curate  of  Stone.     The  Rev.  John  Hill,  vice- 
principal  of  St.  Edmund's  Hall,  Oxford,  addressed  the 
congregation,  previously  to  the  interment,  from  the  words 
of  dying  Jacob,    "  I  have   waited  for  thy  salvation,  0 
Lord  !"  and  the  very  appropriate  hymn  was  sung,  be- 
ginning, 

"  In  vain  my  fancy  strives  to  paint 
The  moment  after  death,"  8cc. 

Mr.  Wilson's  funeral  sermon  was  preached  on  the 
Friday  following.  It  was  our  intention,  and  very  much 
our  wish,  that  it  should  have  been  delivered  from  the 
same  pulpit,  whence  the  venerated  servant  of  Christ, 
who  gave  occasion  to  it,  had  for  eighteen  years,  ''  decla- 
red the  whole  counsel  of  God  :"  but  it  was  foreseen  that 
the  little  church  of  Aston  would  be  utterly  inadequate  to 
receive  the  numbers  who  would  desire  to  present.  The 
neighbouring  church  of  Haddenham  therefore,  which'had 
been  kindly  offered,  was  thankfully,  though,  at  the  same 
time,  somewhat  reluctantly  accepted  for  the  service. 
The  event  shewed  the  necessity  of  making  the  exchange, 
for  even  that  large  building  was  not  sufficient  to  accom- 


496  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  ChAP.  XVL 

modate  the  crowds  who  assembled.  The  appearance  of 
the  congregation,  in  which  a  large  proportion  of  all  ranks 
had  provided  themselves  with  mourning,  evinced  how 
highly  my  dear  father  was  esteemed  in  the  neighbour- 
liood,  thoiich  his  infirmities  and  engagements  had  con- 
spired for  a  long  time  past  to  confine  him  within  the  lim- 
its of  his  own  vilage. 

Before  I  proceed  to  other  documents,  I  will  lay  before 
the  reader  a  few  short  extracts  of  letters  from  different 
members  of  the  family,  shewing  the  view  which  they 
took  of  the  whole  scene,  in  proportion  as  they  were  ena- 
bled to  look  back  upon  it  more  deliberately,  and  with 
greater  composure. 

April  20.  ^^  We  feel  that  we  have  had  a  grand  and 
most  edifying  Christian  spectacle  proposed  to  us  :  far 
more  striking  and  instructive  than  if  all  had  been  smooth." 

April  25.  "  It  was  a  great  fear  of  my  dear  father's 
that  his  death-bed  scene  should  depress  any  of  lis,  par- 
ticularly myself.  How  much  otherwise  has  been  the  ef- 
fect !  I  do  confess  that  the  contemplation  of  the  whole, 
in  all  its  connexions,  produces  such  an  effect  that  I  can- 
not feel  depressed  at  present.'' — (The  letter  in  reply  to 
which  this  was  written,  brought  some  painful  intelli- 
gence ) — "  After  seeing  fears  so  disappointed,  (if  I  may 
use  the  expression,)  and  prayers  so  answered,  I  cannot 
but  indulge  hope." 

May  29.  "  When  I  dare  to  recall  past  scenes,  I  hope 
I  do  it  with  much  praise  and  thankfulness,  mingled  with 
my  sorrow  :  and  I  really  do  think,  that  even  the  most 
painful  part  of  your  beloved  fathers  experience  affords 
matter  rather  of  gratitude  than  of  grief.  As  I  observed 
before,  it  reminded  me  of  a  fine  sun-set,  heightened  by 
the  dark  and  gloomy  clouds  tinted  with  gold ;  and  I  cer- 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  497 

tainly  think  the  scene  afforded  more  to  warn,  excite,  and 
interest  us,  than  a  more  serene  and  unclouded  one  would 
have  done. — Some  of  our  best  feelings  were,  I  trust, 
drawn  out  on  this  most  melancholy  andaifecting  occasion, 
and  our  hearts  still  more  than  before  united  in  tender  af- 
fection.'' 

June  2.     ''I  remain  in  a  very  debilitated  state 

My  mind  too,  after  all  its  over  excitement  at  Aston,  has 
sunk  almost  into  what  the  doctors  call  a  collapsed  state  ; 
and  it  seems  sometimes  as  torpid  as  its  companion.    I  do 
not,  however,  mean  by  this  to  say,  that  the  effects  of  what 
I  have  so  lately  witnessed  and  experienced  have  entirely 
subsided.     I  would  not  thus  undervalue  the  goodness  of 
God  ;  who,  by  means  of  the  bereavement  we  have  lately 
sustained,  and  all  its  attendant  circumstances,  has  done 
me,  I  would  fain  hope,  permanent  good. — I  often  look 
back  with  joy  and  gratitude  to  our  delightful  meeting, — 
for  delightful  certainly  it  was,  though  mingled  with  such 
exquisite  pain.     Surely  it  was  a  foretaste  of  that  time, 
when,  I  humbly  trust,  we  shall  all  be  re-united  in  the 
realms  of  eternal  bliss  ! — You  ask  for  my  now  calmer  re- 
flections :  but  I  cannot  yet  think  calmly  on  what  has 
passed.     My  heart  overflows  with  a  strange  mixture  of 
feelings,  whenever  my  thoughts  turn  that  way.     Those 
of  a  joyful  nature,  however,  predominate.    The  amazing 
goodness  of  God  to  me  and  mine-— our  past  happiness— 
our  future  prospects— at  times  quite  overpower  my  mind, 
andl  seem  almost  lost  in  '  wonder,  love,  and  praise.'— 
But  lam  afraid  of  yielding  to  these  happy  emotions,  lest 
they  should  not  rest  on  a  secure  foundation,  as  regards  my- 
self :  and  yet  peahaps  a  merciful  God  bestows  them,  as  a 
cordial  to  support  me  under  my  depressing  maladies  ;  and 
ought  I  to  turn  away  fronaithe  cup  of  consolation  which 
he  so  graciously  puts  into  my  hand,  unworthy  as  I  am  of 

3R 


498  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [<Jhap.  XVI. 

the  least  of  his  mercies? — Many  things  which  passed 
have  led  me  to  a  more  constant  and  careful  perusal  of  the 
the  Bible  than  formerly  :  and  most  richly  have  1  been  re- 
warded by  such  views  of  the  wonderous  things  of  God's 
lau\  as  I  never  before  enjoyed." 

August  2.  '^  Whenever  I  contemplate  his  close.  1  seem 
to  derive  from  it  a  deej)er  conviction  of  the  importance 
and  excellence  of  religion,  and  of  the  vast  hold  it  had 
upon  his  mind.'' 

I  shall  only  now  detain  the  reader  from  the  memoran- 
dums which  were  made  of  what  fell  from  my  father's  lip's 
during  his  illness,  while  I  submit  some  extracts  and  re- 
marks on  that  degree  of  darkness  and  depression,  which 
was  intermingled  with  sensations  of  a  different  kind  in 
his  experience  at  this  time. 

In  a  letter,  dated  Februrary  21,  before  the  commence- 
ment of  my  father's  illness,  tlie  Rev.  VV.  Richardson,  of 
York,  had  remarked  generally,  referring  to  him,  '*  Deep 
thinkers,  and  highly  gifted  persons,  are  seldom  favoured 
with  such  joy  and  peace  in  believing  as  are  experienced 
by  common  minds.  Men  must  always  pay  the  penalty 
annexed  to  pre-eminence  above  their  fellows." 

The  following  were  the  reflections  made  upon  the  sub- 
ject of  his  conflicts  of  this  kind,  in  the  obituary  published 
in  the  Christian  Observer,  soon  after  his  disease  : 

*'  Under  all  the  circumstances  of  such  a  case,  to  have 
expected  that  Mr.  Scott's  mind  should  be  kept  uniformly 
cheerful,  and  filled  with  bright  anticipations,  would  not 
only  have  been  to  expect  little  less  than  a  miracle,  but 
would  have  shewn  a  defective  acquaintance  with  the  ope- 
rations of  the  human  mind,  and  with  God^s  dealings  with 
his  most  established  and  matured  servants.  The  saga- 
cious and  observant  Bunyan  took  a  different  view  of  the 
subject ;  and  accordingly  he  represents  his  more  experi- 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  499 

enced  Christian  as  encountering,  on  his  first  entrance 
into  '  the  river/  and  in  some  parts  of  his  passage,  a  de- 
gree of  darkness  and  apprehension,  from  which  the 
younger  disciple,  Hopeful,  is  mercifully  exempted.  Is 
not  this  natural,  and  supported  by  facts?*  The  deeper 
views  which  such  characters  have  taken  of  sin ;  the  pro- 
founder  sense  they  have  of  their  own  unworthiness  ;  their 
more  awful  impressions  of  eternity  ;  the  apprehensions 
with  which  long  experience  has  inspired  them  of  the  de- 
ceitfulness  of  the  human  heart ;  and  the  ideas  which  both 
scripture  and  fact  have  taught  them  to  form  of  the  power 
and  malice  of  evil  spirits ; — all  conspire  to  this  end. 
Moreover,  it  is  a  common  observation,  that  were  (as  in 
the  case  of  Abraham,)  Almighty  God  has  communicated 
strong  faith,  he  subjects  it  to  severe  trials.  If  any  can 
conceive  of  nothing  superior  to  present  comfort,  to  them 
this  may  be  puzzling  ;  but  it  need  not  be  so  to  others. 
The  result,  in  such  cases,  proves  honourable  to  God,  and 
edifying  to  his  saints.  What  tried  and  tempted  spirit, 
for  example,  has  not  been  animated  in  its  conflicts  by  the 
exclamation  wrung  from  holy  Job,  Though  he  slay  me. 
yet  will  I  trust  in  him  f 

"  Though,  however,  Mr.  Scott  passed  through  deep 
waters,  and  sometimes  walked  in  darkness  (Isa.  1.  10.) 
during  his  last  illness,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  this 
was  his  constant,  or  even  his  habitual  situation  ;  much  less 
that  fear  of  the  final  event  prevailed  in  him.  No  :  hope 
as  to  that  point  generally  predominated,  though  he  would 
say,  '  Even  one  fear,  where  infinity  is  at  stake,  is  suflt- 
cient  to  countervail  all  its  consoling  effects.'  But  the 
present  conflict  .was  severe  :  and  his  holy  soul  could  con  - 

*  The  reader  may  be  referred  to  Mr.  Scott's  own  observation? 
on  the  passage  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  alh.ded  to. 


300  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ClIAP.  XVI. 

ceive  of  many  evils,  short  of  the  failure  of  final  salvation, 
from  which  he  shrunk  back  with  horror.     There  can  be 
no  doubt  that  these  distressing  feelings  were  much  con- 
nected with   the  disease  under  which   he  laboured,  as 
they  increased  and  abated  again  with  the  paroxysms  of 
his  fever  :  yet,  with  the  scriptures  in  our  hands,  we  can- 
not hesitate  to  concur  in  his  judgement,  that  the  malig- 
nant powers  of  darkness  took  advantage  of  this,  in  a  pe 
culiar  manner,  to  harass  and  distress  him.    From  time  to 
time,  however,  the  clouds  dispersed,  and  the  '  sun  of 
righteousnes  arose  upon  him  with  heaUng  in  his  beams  J  '^ 

In  the  third  edition  of  his  funeral  sermons,  Mr.  Wil- 
son has  added  the  following  note  upon  the  subject  of  my 
father's  sufferings,  both  mental  and  bodily  : 

"  The  remarkable  sufferings  of  so  eminent  a  saint,  in 
his  last  sickness,  may  perhaps  at  first  perplex  the  mind 
of  a  young  Christian.     But  such  a  person  should  remem 
ber  that  the  way  to  heaven  is  ordinarily  a  way  of  tribu- 
lation ;  and  that  the  greatest  honour  God  puts  on  his  ser- 
vants is,  to  call  them  to  such  circumstances  of  affliction  as 
display  and  manifest  his  grace.    What  would  have  crush 
ed  a  weak  and  unstable  penitent,  with  immature  knowl- 
edge of  the  promises  of  salvation,   only  illustrated  the 
faith  of  the  venerable  subject  of  these  discourses.     God 
adapts  the  burden  to  the  strength. — As  to  the  anguish 
and  darkness  which  at  times  rested   on  his  mind,    they 
were  clearly  the  combined  effects  of  disease  and  of  the 
temptations  of  the  adversary.      The  return  of  comfort, 
as  his  fever  remitted,   made  this  quite  certain  ;  and  he 
was  himself  able  at  times  to    make  the  distinction.     But 
even   in    the    midst   of   his    afflictive     feelings,     it   is 
manifest   to  every    real  judge  of  such  a  case,  that  a  liv- 
ing and  strong  faith  was  in  vigorous  activity.     Almost 
every    expression   detailed   by   me,  is    an    expression 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  50} 

of  this    principle.      For   consolation  is  one  thing,  faith 
another.     This  latter  grace  often  lays  hold  of  the  prom- 
ises made  in  Christ  with  the  firmest  grasp,  at  the  very 
time  when  hope  and  comfort  are  interrupted  hy  the  mor 
bid  state  of  the   bodily  and  mental  powers.     Our   feel 
ings  and  frames,  thank  God,  are  not  the  foundation  ok 
which  we  build.     Never  perhaps  was  stronger  faith  ex 
hibited  even  by  our  Saviour  himself,  than  when  he  ut- 
tered those  piercing  words,  Mi/  God,  my  God,  why  hast 
thou  forsaken  me  P 

"  But  it  may  be  further  i^emarked,  that  very  impor- 
tant ends  were  doubtless  to  be  answered  by  these  suffer 
ings,  not  only  to  the  church  generally,  as  I  have  already 
observed,  but  to  the  venerable  sufferer  himself.  Pos- 
sibly his  extraordinary  talents,  his  extensive  success,  his 
long  and  familliar  acquaintance  with  all  the  topics  of  the- 
ology, his  surprising  influence  over  a  wide  circle  of  read  ^ 
ers,  may  have  required  this  last  struggle  to  check  every 
remaining  tendency  to  self- elevation,  and  make  him  feel 
more  deeply  than  ever,  what  he  confessed  through  life  in 
so  unfeigned  a  manner,  that  he  was  in  himself  nothing 
but  a  most  guilty  and  unworthy  sinner. 

^^  If,  however,  any  difficulty  remains,  it  is  more  than 
sufficient  to  say,  that  it  is  our  duty  to  resolve  such  cases 
into  the  unerring  wisdom  and  good  pleasure  of  God. 
We  know  nothing.  Our  concern,  both  as  to  ourselves 
and  others,  is  to  be  duinb,  and  not  open  our  inouths,  at. 
what  God  does.  Happy,  infinitely  happy,  is  it  for  us  to 
to  know,  that  all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them 
that  love  God,  and  that  no  temptation  ivill  take  us  but 
what  is  common  to  man  ;  but  that  God  is  faithful,  who 
will  not  suffer  us  to  be  tempted  above  that  we  are  able; 
but  will  with  the  temptation  also  make  a  way  to  escape, 
that  we  may  be  able  to  bear  it. 


Mi  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVI. 

••Of  the  glory  wliich  follows,  and  swallows  up  all 
these  temporary  sufleringSj  I  need  not  speak." 

In  reviewing  Mr.  W.'s  sermons,  the  Christian  Ob- 
servers remark  on  the  specimens  w^hich  Mr.  W.  suppli- 
ed of  my  fathers  dying  expressions  : 

'*  They  convey  to  our  minds  the  most  unequivocal  tes- 
timony of  a  frame  of  mind  the  best  suited  to  his  circum- 
stances, the  most  acceptable  to  God,  and  the  most  cheer- 
ing to  those  deeply  interested  in  his  eternal  welfare.     It 
is  perfectly  true  that  indications  of  deep  thought — of  oc- 
casional perturbation — of  an  anxious  searching,  and  launch- 
ing forward,  as  it  were,  into  the  depths  and  obscurities 
of  futurity — and  of  the  heavy  pressure  of  sin  on  the  con- 
science, discover  themselves  in  his  dying  declarations. 
It  is  perfectly  true  also  that  some  clouds  occasionally  in- 
terposed, and  veiled  to  his  sinking  eye,  for  the  moment, 
the  glories  of  the  invisible  world.     It  is  true,  that  his 
dying  scene  presents  to  us  an  individual  walking  rather 
in  the  twilight  of  enjoyment,  where  the  sun  and  the  shade 
were  struggling  together  for  victory,  than  in  a  region  of 
unmixed  happiness.      But  are  not  such    thoughts  and 
anxieties  the  natural  accompaniments  of  every  step  of  our 
pilgrimage  :  and,  if  finally  dispersed  by  the  light  of  faith, 
and  hope,  and  Christian  joy,  does  not  their  presence  sup- 
ply even  a  stronger  evidence,  to  the  bystander,  of  the 
safety  of  the  individual,  than  their  absence  ?     Undis- 
turbed serenity  may  be  undisturbed  delusion.     A  calm 
after  anxiety  is  a  victory  after  the  battle — is  the  ^  palm' 
when  the  battle  is  won.     And  such  was  the  case  of  Mr. 
Scott.'' 

Finally,  I  would  for  myself  avow,  more  strongly,   if 
possible,  than  before,  though  without  any  design  to  re- 
tract or  weaken  the  influence  of  what  has  been  said  on 
Satanic  agency,  a  firm  conviction  that  the  gloom,  of  which 


i821.]  '  AND  DEATH.  o03 

we  speakj  was,  in  the  present  instance,  mainly  to  be  at- 
tributed to  the  force  of  disease  ;  which  has  the  power  of 
producing  such  effects,  and  affects  also  of  an  opposite  de- 
scription, beyond  what  those  who  have  not  carefully  con- 
sidered the  subject  are  at  all  aware.  The  following  sen- 
tence is  no  doubt  strictly  true  in  both  its  parts  :  '-  Good 
men  may  be  unreasonably  depressed  and  dejected,  and 
bad  men  supported  and  elevated,  under  the  near  pros- 
pect of  death,  from  the  mere  operation  of  natural 
causes.''*" — At  the  same  time,  the  reader  has  been  called 
to  observe,  and  in  what  is  to  follow  he  will  still  further  per- 
ceive, how  large  an  intermixture  there  was  of  joyful,  as 
well  as  of  dejected  sentiments,  in  the  case  before  us. 

I  now  insert  the 

MEMORANDUMS 

made  during  my  father^ s  illness. 

My  sister  says  in  her  letter  of  March  24,  (above  page 
479,)  "  The  first  days  I  was  here  I  could  do  nothing  but 
weep  and  pray.''  Subsequently  she  says,  "  At  length, 
however,  I  was  roused  to  the  edifying  nature  of  the  scene, 
and  to  consider  how  beneficial  the  recollection  of  it  might 
hereafter  be  to  myself  and  others.  This  induced  me  to 
make  some  notes  of  what  passed.'' — These  are  as  fol- 
lows : — 

^'  In  the  time  of  his  darkness  and  gloom,  he  prayed 
without  ceasing,  and  inexpressible  fervour.  He  seemed 
unconscious  of  any  one  being  near  him,  and  gave  vent 
to  the  feelings  of  his  mind  without  restraint.      And,  oh  ! 

*■  Pearson's  Life  of  Hev 


.>04  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVI. 

what  lioly  feelings  were  they  ;  what  spirituality,  what 

Jiatred  oi"  sin,  what  humility,  what  simple  faith  in  Christ, 

what   zeal  for  (lod's  glory,   what  submission  !     Never 

could  I  hear  him  without  being  reminded  of  Him,  who, 

being  in. an  agony ^  prayed    the   more  earnestly;  and 

whose  language  was.  My  God^  my  God,  why  hast  thou 

forsaken  me  ?     A'^evertheless  Thou  continuest  holy  !    '  \ 

think  nothing,'  he  said,  '  of  ray  bodily  pains  :  my  soul  is 

all.  I  trust  all  will  end  well ;  but  it  is  a  dreadful  conflict. 

1  hope — I  fear — I  tremble — I  pray.     Satan  tries  to  be 

revenged  on  me,  in  this  awful  hour,  for  all  that  I  have 

done  against  his  kingdom  through  life.      He  longs  to 

pluck  me  out  of  Christ's  hand.     Subdue  the  enemy,  0 

Lord !     Silence  the  accuser  !     Bruise  Satan  under  my 

feet  SHORTLY  ! 

Hide  me,  O  my  Saviour  hide, 

Till  the  storm  of  life  is  past, 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide, 

O  receive  my  soul  at  last! 
Other  rcfug-e  I  have  none  !' 

— »  Oh,  to  enter  eternity  with  one  doubt  on  the  mind  ! 
Eternity — Eternity — Eternity  /' — '  People  tnlk  of  as- 
surance  not  being  attainable  in  this  world,  nor  perhaps 
much  to  be  desired.  They  and  the  devil  agree  on 
this  point.' — ^  Oh  what  a  thing  sin  is! — Who  knoweth 
the  power  of  His  wrath  f  If  this  be  the  way  to  heaven, 
what  must  the  way  to  hell  be  ?  Jf  the  righteous  scarce- 
ly be  saved,  where  shall  the  wigodly  and  the  sinner  ap- 
pear P' 

"  He  mentioned  the  wonderful  way  in  which  his  pray- 
ers for  others  had  been  answered  ;  and  seemed  to  derive 
some  comfort  from  the  reflection.  He  thought  he  had 
failed  less  in  the  duty  of  intercession  than  in  any  other  !* 

*  Perhaps,  when  all  circumstances  are  fully  considered,  there 
is  not  a  sentence  in  these  papers  more  remarkable  than  this  :  nor 


^^^1-]  AND  DEATH.  505 

^^He  rejected  every  attempt  to  comfort  him  by  re- 
minding him  of  the  way  in  which  he  had  served  and  glo- 
rified God.  '  Christ  is  all/  he  said  :  '  He  is  my  only 
hope.  Hide  me,  0  my  Saviour,  &c.  !  Other  refuge  have 
I  none^^  &c. 

"  In  the  midst  of  his  conflict  he  generally  expressed 
hope  of  final  victory,  but  thought  he  should  die  under  a 
cloud.  He  accused  himself  of  self-indulgence  and  slack- 
ness in  prayer;  of  having  made  his  religious  labours  an 
excuse  for  shortness  in  private  devotion. 

"  There  was  an  astonishing  absence  of  selfish  feeling. 
Even  in  his  worst  hours  he  thought  of  the  health  of  us 
all :  observed  if  we  sat  up  long,  and  insisted  upon  our 
retiring  ;  and  was  much  afraid  of  paining  or  hurting  us 
in  any  way. 

"  His  wonderful  knowledge  of  scripture  was  a  source 
of  great  comfort,  and  the  exactness  with  which  he  repeat- 
ed passage  after  passage,  frequently  remarking  upon  em- 
phatic words  in  the  original,  was  amazing.  The  manner 
also  in  wnich  he  connected  one  with  another  was  admira- 
ble. It  resembled  hearing  a  series  of  exquisitely  select- 
ed scripture -references  read  with  a  solemnity  and  feeling 
such  as  one  had  never  before  witnessed. 

^^His  first  clear  consolation  was  after  receiving  the  Lord's 
Supper,  on  Thursday,  March  22d.  He  had  previously  ob- 
served ;  '  An  undue  stress  is  by  some  laid  upon  this  ordi- 
nance, as  administered  to  the  sick,  and  I  thinkothers  of  us  are 
in  danger  of  undervaluing  it.  It  is  a  means  of  grace,  and  may 
prove  God's  instrument  of  conveying  to  me  the  comfort  I 
am  seeking.'  The  scene  was  indescribable,  and  can  never 
be  forgotten  by  any  who  witnessed  it.     His  fervour,  his 

a  fact  in  his  history  more  indicative  of  his  zeal  for  God  and  love 
to  man,  than  that  to  whicli  it  relates.  Who  among  us  can  make  a 
similar  declaration  ? 

3  S 


506  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVL 

humility?  the  way  in  which  he  raised  his  emaciated  hands 
to  heaven,  his  pallid  dying  countenance,  so  full  of  love, 
and  expressive  of  every  thing  heavenly  and  holy,  the 
tears  and  sobs  of  those  present :  all  together  were  most 
overpowering.  Surely  God  was  with  us  in  a  pecular 
manner.  Shortly  after  the  service  was  concluded,  he  said, 
JVow  Lord  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peaces  for 
mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation.  Through  the  remain- 
der of  the  day,  though  much  exhausted,  and  during  the 
night,  he  continued  in  a  very  happy  state  of  mind. 

^^To  his  son-in-law,  w^ho  came  in  the  evening,  and  re- 
gretted his  absence  when  the  sacrament  was  administer- 
ed, he  said  :  '  It  was  beneficial  io  me  :  I  received  Christ, 
and  he  received  me.  I  feel  a  composure  which  I  did  not 
expect  last  night :  I  have  not  triumphant  assurance,  but 
something  which  is  more  calm  and  satisfactory.  I  bless 
God  for  it.  And  then  he  repeated,  in  the  most  emphatic 
manner,  the  whole  twelfth  chapter  of  Isaiah  :  O  Lordj 
I  will  praise  thee  ;  though  thou  wast  angry  with  me, 
thine  anger  is  turned  away,  and  thou  comfortest  me^ 
&c.'  Oh  to  realize  \\\^  fulness  of  joy  !  to  have  done 
with  temptation  !  They  shall  hunger  no  more^  neither 
thirst  any  more  ;  neither  shall  the  sun  light  on  them 
nor  any  heat :  for  the  Lambj  ivhich  is  in  the  midst 
of  the  throne,  shall  feed  them,  and  shall  lead  them 
unto  living  fountains  of  waters :  and  God  shall  wipe 
away  all  tears  from  their  eyes. —  They  are  come  out 
of  great  tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes,  and 
made  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  There^ 
fore  are  they  before  the  throne  of  God.' 

'  Sin,  my  worst  enemy  before, 

Shall  vex  my  eyes  and  ears  no  more  : 
My  inward  foes  shall  all  be  slain, 
Nor  Satan  break  my  peace  again.'— 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  507 

''  We  know  not  what  we  shall  be :  but  ive  know,  that  when 
he  shall  appear ^  we  shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him 
as  he  is, — The  righteous  hath  hope  in  his  death — not 
driven  away;  no,  no,  not  driven  away,  as  the  wicked  is,' 

*  When  I  tread  the  verge  of  Jordan, 

Bid  my  anxious  fears  subside  !' — 

*  Though  painful  at  present, 

'T  will  cease  before  long ; 
And  then,  oh  how  pleasant 
The  conqueror's  song !' 

*^  '  What  a  mercy/  he  said,  on  something  being  pre- 
pared  for  him,  '  that  there  are  so  many  changes  of  food 
for  bad  apetites ;  and  so  many  kind  relatives,  friends,  and 
domestics,  doing  all  they  can  to  help  me. — You  are  all 
trying  to  comfort  me  :  God  bless  you,  and  all  whom  you 
desire  to  be  blessed !  He  will  be  a  God  to  Abraham, 
and  to  his  seed,  and  his  seedh  seed.  Let  the  children 
of  thy  servant  continue,  and  their  seed  be  established 
hefore  thee! 

How  would  the  powers  of  darkness  boast 
If  but  one  praying  soul  were  lost'.' 

He  frequently  repeated,  Perfect  peace  ! 

"  In  the  evening  he  asked  Mr.  Dawes  if  there  was 
not  a  proof  sheet  that  night,  extending  nearly  to  the 
close  of  St.  John.  And  then,  evidently  going  over  in 
his  mind  the  contents  of  the  last  chapters  of  that  gospel, 
he  said,  '  Well  :  //  is  finished:  We  shall  soon  finish 
our  work  too.  After  a  pause— -il/z/  Lord,  and  my  God  f 
and  then,  with  great  animation,  These  things  ars  writ- 
ten that  ye  might  believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  the 
Son  of  God,  and  that,  believing,  ye  might  have  life 
through  his  name.^^Ue  again  paused,  and  then  proceed- 
ed :     '  Lovest  thou  me  P'  and,  turning  to  his  sons,  '  It  is 


508  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVL 

too  late  to  say  to  me^  but  he  says  to  you^  feed  my  sheepy 
feed  my  lambs.  That  is  the  way  to  shew  your  love.  I 
have  endeavoured  to  do  it,  but  it  is  all  over  now.'  Mr. 
D.  said,  ^  Your  works  will  furnish  food  for  them  for  a 
long  time  to  come  :'  he  replied,  '  Aye,  but  they  will  get 
out  of  fashion.'  Mr.  D.  ^  The  Bible  will  not  get  out  of 
fashion.'  ^  But  they  will  get  a  new  fashioned  way  of 
commenting  on  it.'  Mr.  D.  said  something  further  on 
the  permanency  on  his  comment.  '  Pho,'  he  cried  with 
a  semi-contemptuous  smile  ;  and  added  :  '  Oh,  you  do 
not  know  what  a  proud  heart  I  have,  and  how  you  help 
the  devil.  They  may  take  a  few  hints,  I  hope.  I  leave 
something  which  they  may  have  in  remembrance  after 
my  disease,  but  oh  !' — with  great  solemnity — '  what  an 
awful  responsibility  rests  upon  me  !  I  have  done  what 
I  could.     Forgive — accept — bless  !' 

"  He  proceeded  :  '  There  is  one  feeling  I  cannot  have 
if  I  would.  Those  that  oppose  my  doctrine  have  slan- 
dered me  sadly  :  but  I  cannot  feel  any  resentment,  I  can 
only  love  and  pity  them,  and  pray  for  their  salvation.  I 
never  did  feel  any  resentment  against  them  :  I  only  re- 
gret that  I  did  not  more  ardently  long  and  pray  for  the 
salvation  of  their  souls.' — '  I  feel  most  earnest  in  prayer 
for  the  promotion  of  Christ's  kingdom  all  over  the  earth. 
Hallowed  be  thy  name — Thy  kingdofn  come — Thy  will 
be  dojie  on  eaiHh  as  it  is  in  heaven  ! — Be  thou  exalted^ 
Lord,  in  thy  own  strength  ;  so  will  ive  sing  and  praise 
thy  power. '^ — «  There  are  two  causes  in  the  world,  the 
cause  of  God,  and  the  cause  of  the  devil  ;  the  cause  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  cause  of  the  devil.  The 
cause  of  God  will  prevail  all  over  the  world,  among  all 
kindreds,  and  people,  and  tongues.  It  shall  fill  the 
whole  earth .     Halloived  be  thy  name,  &c . ' 

^'  'I  hope  I  leave  something,'  he  said,  referring  to  his 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  509 

writings,  *  which  may  do  good  to  the  industrious  ;  and 
nothing  can  do  good  to  the  idle/ 

"  He  afterwards  alhided  with  great  concern  to  the 
death  of  his  father.  '  I  fear  he  knew  not  Immanual, 
the  Lord  our  righteousness.  His  last  letter  to  me  was 
full  of  Socinian  principles.  I  wrote  a  long  and  affection- 
ate answer,  but  he  died  before  it  arrived.' — Then  to  his 
grandson  :  '  You  see  your  grandfather,  I  trust,  die  a 
more  Christian  death  than  his  father  :  may  you  die  a 
more  Christian  death  than  either  grandfather  or  great- 
grandfather !  To  this  end  lead  a  more  Christian  life. 
You  have  greater  advantages  then  they  had.  You 
You  have  been  j&/aw^ec?  in  the  courts  of  the  Lord  :  but 
oh  !'  (raising  his  emaciated  hands  with  amazing  ener- 
gy,) '  despise  not  the  birth-right ;  \estafterivards  you  find 
it  not  J  though  you  seek  it  carefully  with  tears. — I  have 
nothing  but  my  blessing  and  good  will  to  give  you.  I  have 
no  money  to  leave  you  ;  and,  if  I  had,  it  would  be  a  mere 
a  bauble,  a  bubble,  all  vanity.' 

"  In  the  night  Mr.  Dawes,  sitting  by  him,  heard  him 
say  in  a  low  voice  :  '  0  God,  thou  art  the  husband  of  the 
widow,  the  father  of  the  fatherless  :  be  thou  a  husband 
to  my  widow,  a  father  to  my  children,  a  friend  to  this 
young  friend  who  sits  so  kindly  by  me.' 

''  He  had  some  refreshing  sleep,  and  awoke  in  great 
calmness.  '  This,'  he  said,  '  is  heaven  begun  :  I  have 
done  with  darkness  for  ever— for  ever.  Satan  is  van- 
quished. Nothing  now  remains,  but  salvation  with 
eternal  glory — eternal  glory. ^ 

"In  the  morning,  (Friday,  March  23,)  the  flush  in 
his  cheek  announced  the  return  of  fever,  and  with  it 
there  was  some  agitation  and  distress  :  '  But,'  said  he, 
'  though  I  feel  some  temptation,  more  than  I  have  done 
through  the  night,  yet,  for  a  dying  day,  it  is  all  mercy. 


310  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ClIAP.  XVI. 

T have  ivaited for  thy  salvation^  0  Lord :  preserve  me 
yet !' — The  paroxysm  came  on  with  great  violence  :  his 
sufferings  were  extreme,  and  confusion  and  gloom  pre- 
vailed. He  cried  earnestly  to  God.  '  All  my  calm  and 
comfort,'  he  said,  '  are  gone  :  nothing  remains  of  them 
but  a  faint  recollection, — and  that  I  can  pray  for  you. — 
Well,  after  all,  God  is  greater  than  Satan.  Is  not  Christ 
all-sufficient  ?  can  he  not  save  to  the  uttermost  ?  hath  he 
not  promised  to  save  ?  Lord,  deliver  me  !  Suffer  not 
Satan  to  prevail !  Pity,  pity,  Lord,  pity  me  !' 

"  The  absence  of  every  murmur  and  complaint,  under 
such  heavy  mental  and  bodily  sufferings,  was  very  striking. 
He  said,  with  reference  to  dying  under  this  gloom,  '  If 
it  be  so,  I  cannot  help  it :  Thou  art  righteous  !  Father ^ 
glorify  thy  name  ! 

— If  my  soul  were  sent  to  hell 

Thy  righteous  law  approves  it  well. 

Yet  save  a  trembling  sinner,  Lord, 
Whose  hope,  still  hovering  round  thy  word, 
Would  light  on  some  sweet  promise  there, 
Some  sure  support  against  despair. 

Round  thy  word :  not  hunting  after  any  new  revelation  : 
No,  no  :  I  want  nothing  new  ;  nothing  but  the  old  doc- 
trine, and  faith  to  lay  hold  of  it.  That  will  bear  me 
through  all.' 

"  Dr.  Slater  now  came.  To  him  he  related  with  great 
accuracy  all  that  had  passed,  both  as  to  body  and  mind, 
since  he  saw  him  on  Tuesday  ;  and  asked  his  advice  re- 
specting taking  opiates,  which  he  found  most  efficacious 
in  quieting  his  over-excitement,  preventing  delirium, 
and  reducing  the  mind  to  its  natural  state,  so  that  he 
could  pray  w^ith  peace  and  calmness. — '  Observe,'  he  said, 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  oil 

^  I  do  not  fear  death.^  '  No/  replied  Dr.  S.,  ^  I  know 
you  desire  to  depart.'  '  In  that/  said  he^  '  the  Lord'vS 
will  be  done  :  I  want  to  do  my  duty :  I  would  not  shorten 
my  sufferings  by  the  least  sin.' 

"  In  the  evening  the  fever  abated,  and  he  became  calm. 
His  mind  dwelt  much  upon  love,  '  God  is  love;  and  he 
that  dwelleth  in  love^  dwelleth  in  God^  and  God  in  him. 
Faith  that  worketh  by  love.^  He  seemed  fidl  of  tender- 
ness and  affection  to  all  around  him.  ^One  evidence/* 
he  said,  '  I  have  of  meetness  for  heaven — I  feel  such  love 
to  all  mankind — to  evei^y  man  upon  earth — to  those  who 
have  most  opposed  and  slandered  me.' 

''  To  the  Rev.  S.  B.  Mathews,  then  Curate  of  Stone, 
now  of  Aston  Sanford,  and  Secretary  to  a  neighbouring 
Bible  Society,  he  said,  with  great  energy  :  '  Count  it  an 
honour,  without  recompence  or  reward,  in  the  midst  of 
frowns  and  opposition,  to  preach  the  unsearchable  riches 
of  Christ  to  poor  sinners ;  to  help  to  send  his  word  all 
over  the  earth,  by  sea  and  land.     None  but  Jesus  can  do 
%ts  good  :  nor  can  we  do  any  good  to  others  but  by  him. 
— 1  have  suffered  more  this  fortnight  than  in  all  my  se- 
venty-four years  :  and  Christ  has  appeared  to  me  a  hun- 
dred, yea  a  thousand  times,  if  possible,  more  precious 
and  glorious  than  ever  :  sin,  more  hateful  and  evil ;  sal- 
vation, more  to  he  desired  and  valued. — Christ  is  all — 
the  love  of  Christ — the  power  of  Christ.      To  me  to  live 
is  Christ ;  and  to  die,  I  hope,  will  be  gain. — More  than 
all  in  thee,  I  find.     I  have  found  more  in  him,  than  I 
ever  expected  to  want.^ 

"  To  his  daughter  :  '  I  used  about  this  time  in  the 
evening  to  pray  for  you  all :  but  I  have  no  power  now  : 
hardly  any  to  pray  for  himself.  You  must  pray  for  me.' 
Then,  ^  Let  me  look  to  Christ  to  intercede  for  me. — 1 
have  not  quite  failed  to  improve  the  privilege  of  access 


612  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVI. 

to  God  by  Christ — of  his  intercession  :  but  I  have  not 
availed  myself  of  it  as  I  ought.  I  hope  you  will  all  value 
and  improve  this  inestimable  privilege/' — '  All  depends 
on  faith.  Lord,  give  me  faith! — the  precious  faith  of 
God's  elect !  Pray  for  me,  that  I  may  have  faith — hope- 
— love — 

Till  faith  is  sweetly  lost  in  sight, 
And  hope  in  full  supreme  delight, 
And  everlasting  love  ! 

• — ^  God  bless  your  poor  afilicted  father-in-law  !  He,  per- 
haps, will  not  be  here  long.  God  spare  him,  if  it  be  his 
will !  But  may  he,  too,  have  \h^  precious  faith  of  God^s 
elect !  May  his  partner  be  blessed,  supported,  and  sanc- 
tified V 

"  To  his  wife  :  '  God  be  your  father,  and  your  husband  ! 
I  trust  all  mine  will  be  kind  to  you.  You  have  been  a 
great  blessing  to  me.  We  shall,  I  trust,  meet  in  heaven. 
I  have  less  doubt  of  you,  than  of  myself.' 

"  A  message  was  communicated  to  him  from  his  highly 
esteemed  friend  the  Rev.  Daniel  Wilson,  expressive, 
among  other  things,  of  the  great  benefit  he  had  been  to 
the  church  of  Christ.  '  Now  this,'  said  he,  '  is  doing  mc 
harm.  God.  be  merciful  to  mc  a  sinner ,  is  the  only  ground 
on  which  I  can  rest.  The  last  time  I  spoke  to  the  peo- 
ple, it  was  on  those  words,  and  I  applied  them  to  myself: 
Be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner — the  sinner — the  chief  of 
sinners.  If  I  am  saved,  God  shall  have  all  the  glory.' 

^'  A  striking  scene  took  place  this  evening,  (March  23d,) 
with  one  of  his  poor  parishioners,  which  shewed  his  anx- 
ious care  of  his  flock,  and  his  clear  recollection  of  the 
character  and  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  individuals. 
After  advising  him  on  his  situation  and  conduct,  '  Christ,' 
he  observed,   ^  is  all.  the  world  is  nothing.     Had  I  the 


1^^1-3  AND  DEATH.  5^,'^ 

property  of ,  or  a  hundred  times  more,  now  that  I 

lie  here,  what  would  it  be  worth  ?  not  a  bubble  of  water. 
Seek  to  win  Christ.  Give  up  every  thing — every  thing 
but  duty,  to  avoid  contention. — I  have  often  prayed  for 
you :  often  since  I  lay  on  this  bed.  Tell  your  wife  to 
pray  for  me  :  she,  at  least,  owes  7nueh  to  me. — I  have 
often  prayed  for  you  all:  particularly  when  I  thought  you 
were  praying  for  me.' 

"  '  At  any  rate,  I  have  been  ^  plain  man.  The  hy- 
pocrite— the  formalist — will  not  pray  always.  I  have 
always  resolved  to  enter  eternity  praying,  Lord  save  me  ! 
JVow  the  time  is  come.' 

"  He  had  talked  too  much,  and  became  too  agitated 
and  distressed  ;  but  regained  calmness  in  the  night,  and 
had  some  sleep.  He  said  to  his  youngest  son,  who  sat 
up  with  him,  ^  What  is  the  world,  and  the  glory  of  it  ? 
I  would  not  change  my  hope,  lean  and  meagre  as  it  is, 
for  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  and  the  glory  of  them, 
were  I  sure  of  living  a  thousand  years  longer  to  enjoy 
them.' 

"  Through  the  greater  part  of  Saturday  (March  24,) 
he  was  calm,  though  often  gloomy.  It  was  delightful  to 
sit  by  him :  he  talked  much  to  himself,  and  prayed  in  a 
low  voice.  The  presence  of  one  of  us  did  not  disturb 
him^  while  it  was  highly  edifying  and  consoling  to  us. — 
In  the  afternoon  he  was  shaved  :  and,  on  my  asking  him, 
whether  it  troubled  him  much,  he  said,  '  Not  much  :' 
and  alluding  to  a  playful  term  by  which  we  had  been 
used  to  describe  that  operation,  he  proceeded,  '  Oil  that 
the  Lord  would  beautify  me  with  salvation  !  He  loill 
beautify  the  meek  ivith  salvation.  (Psal.  cxlix.  4. )  That 
would  be  a  beautifying.'— As  I  sat  by  him  in  the  evening 
he  said,  ^  You  love  and  pity  me  ;  but  that  will  do  me 
little  good.     Your  love  and  pity  aVe  beautiful,  as  far  as 

3  T 


514  Mlh  LAST   ILLNESS,  [ClIAP.  XVI. 

they  go :  oh  liow  beautiful  are  the  love  and  pity  of  the 
Saviour  /' 

''  I  asked  him  on  Sunday  afternoon,  whether  I  should 
stay  from  church  with  him.  '  Oh  no,'  he  replied  :  '  no- 
thing gives  me  pleasure  but  what  is  for  your  good  ;  and 
the  thought  that  you  pray  for  me.' 

^*  Monday  March  26.  To  his  servant :  '  I  thank  you 
for  all  your  kindness  to  me.  You  have  been  a  faithful 
domestic,  and  I  hope  a  conscientious  one.  If  at  any  time 
I  have  been  hasty  and  sharp,  forgive  me,  and  pray  to  God 
to  forgive  me  :  but  lay  the  blame  upon  me,  not  upon  re- 
ligion.' 

"  '  For  one  thing  I  rejoice — that  I  am  not  one  of  the 
Carlile  party  ;  nor  of  the  Humes  and  Rousseaus ;  nor  of 
the  open  profligates  ;  nor  of  the  Pelagians,  the  self-justi- 
Hers.  I  might  have  been  :  I  have  done  enough  to  provoke 
God  to  give  me  up.' 

^'  '  May  Christ  be  unto  me  loisdom^  and  righteousness, 
and  justification  ayid  redemption,'^ — he  corrected  himself 
^  sanctifi cation  and  redemption .-'  and  added,  '  Lord  let 
me  have  all,  though  I  should  forget  to  ask  aright !' 

"  After  mentioning  his  acute  sufferings,  such,  he  said, 
as  he  had  previously  no  conception  of,  he  added  :  '  If  my 
continuance  here  in  them  could  be  of  the  least  spiritual 
benefit  to  any  one,  I  should  be  willing  to  wait.' 

'^  On  taking  some  refreshment :  '  When  /  do  not  like 
any  thing,  I  leave  it ;  but  the  Saviour,  though  the  cup  was 
so  bitter,  did  not  leave  it  till  he  could  say,  '  It  is  finished^* 

^'  '  I  know  not  how  it  is,  I  repent  and  believe  :  I  think 
I  am  sure  I  do,  but  I  do  not  obtain  the  clear  sense  of  par- 
don. There  seems  a  great  gulf  fixed,  which  I  cannot 
pass.'  My  mother  answered,  '  It  is  disease.'  '  Yes,' 
he  said,  ^the  e^er^  of  disease' 

^^  He  expressed  his  fear  that  his  death  would  occasioH 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  515 

a  season  of  temptation  to  his  people  ;  that  the  congregation 
would  very  probably  be  dispersed,  in  various  directions  ; 
and  then  observed — '  It  is  just  eighteen  years  since  I  came 
hither.  I  was  mwch  fiercer  this  day  eighteen  years,  when 
taking  leave  of  the  people  at  the  Lock' — alluding  to  the 
common  language  of  this  part  of  the  country,  which  de- 
scribes good  health  and  spirits  by  the  term  fierceness.  I 
seemed  a  little  surprised  ;  and  he  said,  '  Do  not  you  re- 
member that  I  preached  my  farewell  sermons  at  the  Lock 
on  the  26th  of  March  ?' 

''  Afterwards :  '  I  have  not  that  comfort  I  could  wish: 
but  I  think  my  mind  is  made  up  to  bear  quietly  whatever 
God  may  please  to  send  me,  however  uncomfortable  even 
to  the  end,  if  it  be  for  his  glory.' 

'^  On  Tuesday  morning  (March  27th,)  he  appeared 
dying,  and  suffered  exquisitely.  '  Oh,'  he  said,  ^  it  is 
hard  work.  Death  is  a  new  acquaintance  :  a  terrible  one, 
except  as  Christ  giveth  us  the  victory,  and  the  assicrance 
of  it.  My  flesh  and  my  heart  seem  as  if  they  nmnted  to 
fail,  and  could  not.  Who  can  tell  what  that  tie  is  which 
binds  body  and  soul  together  ?  How  easily  is  it  loosened 
in  some  ;  what  a  wrench  and  tear  is  it  in  others.  Lord, 
loosen  it,  if  it  be  thy  will ! — I  hope  it  is  not  wrong  to 
pray  for  a  release.  If  it  be,  God  forgive  me  !  Yet,  if 
it  be  thy  will  that  I  should  wait  for  days  and  weeks,  Thou 
art  righteous,^ 

''  Some  refreshment  was  brought  him,  which  he  did 
not  feel  willing  to  take.  He  asked  what  was  to  be  the 
effect  of  it,  and  seemed  to  fear  being  stupified.  He  was 
told  it  was  only  to  make  him  more  comfortable.  '  That,' 
he  replied,  '  is  death's  work,  or  rather  Christ's  work  by 
death  :  but  I  will  do  as  I  am  bid.  In  my  circumstances, 
to  do  as  man  bids  me  in  these  things  is  the  best  way  of  do- 
ing what  God  bids  mc.' 


316  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVI. 

'^  He  is  continually  repeating  texts  of  scripture  and 
verses  of  hymns. — His  tender  aflection  for  us  all  is  as- 
tonishing in  such  a  state  of  extreme  suffering  and  cuts  us 
to  the  heart.  On  seeing  my  mother  come  in,  he  cried, 
'  Here  comes  another  sufferer.  Lord,  thou  art  he  that 
comfortest  those  that  mourn  :  comfort  her — support  her  ! 
Be  thou  the  husband  of  the  widow  V 

^'  He  expressed  his  fear  lest  seeing  him  suffer  so  dread- 
fully should  do  us  harm,  and  make  us  fear  death  in  a  way 
we  ought  not  to  do. — Still  his  desire  for  the  promotion  of 
the  glory  of  God  is  the  uppermost  feeling  in  his  mind. 
Father,  glorify  thy  name,  is  his  frequent  language.— 
His  deep  humility — the  simplicity  of  his  faith  in  Christ 
— his  hatred  of  sin — his  spirituality  of  mind — his  meek- 
ness, gentleness,  and  love,  strike  us  all  with  admiration. 
He  indeed  receives  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child. 
The  very  way  in  which  he  mentions  the  name  of  the  Sa- 
viour, it  is  delightful  to  hear.  He  seems  as  much  like 
him,  as  one  can  conceive  any  thing  on  earth  to  be  :  but  his 
desires  after  holiness  are  such  as  will  never  be  satisfied 
till  he  awakes  in  his  likeness. 

"  '  0  Lord,  magnify  in  me  thy  glory  : — thy  justice — 
thy  hatred  of  sin — thy  love — thy  truth — thy  pity  :  — 
and  then  take  me  to  thyself  !' — ^The  way  is  dark  and 
deep  ;  but 

His  way  was  much  deeper  (rougher) 

And  darker  than  mine  : 
Did  Jesus  thus  suffer, 

And  shall  I  repine  V 

these  were  some  of  his  sentences. — Again  :  *  If  I  were 
what  I  ought  to  be,  I  should  be  willing  to  live  in  this 
state  six  months,  if  it  might  be  of  any  spiritual  use  to  the 
worst  infidel.'  Mr.  D.  said,  ^  You  know  our  Saviour 
pl'ayed,  If  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me:  so 


1^21-]  AND  DEATH,  517 

that  it  cannot  he  wrong  to  shrink  from  suffering.^  '  No/ 
he  replied,  ^  I  do  not  think  that  it  is  all  wrong.  But  I 
leave  it  in  the  hands  of  a  Saviour,  who  is  infinite  in  wis- 
dom, power,  and  love  :  and  I  pray  for  patience.— I  hope, 
but  I  cannot  but  feel  some/ear  .•  and  it  is  such  an  eternal 
risk,  of  such  infinite  importance,  that  the  slightest  fear 
seems  to  counterbalance  even  prevalent  hope.' 

''  Through  the  whole  of  Tuesday  afternooon  he  was 
calm,  and  talked  delightfully.  He  seemed  to  unite  the 
cheerfulness,  clearness  of  thought,  and  force  of  argument, 
of  his  former  days,  with  the  extraordinary  tenderness,  hu- 
mility, meekness,  and  love  of  his  present  situation. — On 
his  second  son's  entering  the  room,  he  said  to  him — Who 
am  also  an  elder ,  and  a  ivitness  of  the  sufferings  of  C/u'isty 
and  a  pai^taker  of  the  glory  that  shall  he  revealed:  Feed 
the  flock  of  God  that  is  among  you,  <^c.  ;  (1  Pet.  v.  1 — 4.) 
and  proceeded  to  converse  in  a  most  interesting  manner 
about  his  own  past  ministry.  He  had  a  blessed  conscious- 
ness of  having  been  faithful,  which  was  a  source  of  grat- 
itude to  him. 

•'  To  his  grandson  :  '  God  bless  you !  I  have  often 
preached  to  you,  and  sometimes  talked  to  you  ;  but  I 
have  prayed  for  you  a  hundred  times  more.  Seek  and 
serve  God.  Religion  is  all  that  is  valuable.  You  may 
think  it  does  little  for  me  now  ;  but  it  is  all.  May  you 
be  a  blessing  to  your  parents,  to  your  brothers  and  sis- 
ters. You  are  the  eldest :  should  you  outlive  your  fa- 
ther, be  a  father  to  the  rest.  I  have  always  particularly 
wished  you  might  be  a  minister  of  Christ :  but  this  I 
must  leave.     God's  will  be  done  !' 

''  On  another  occasion  :  '  God  bless  you  and  make 
you  a  blessing  to  your  father,  mother,  brothers,  sisters, 
cousins,  the  pupils,  schools,  poor,  and,  if  it  might  be, 
te  his  church  ."—And  yet  again  :   '  Once  more,  my  dcai' 


."ilS  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVI. 

grandson,  Ood  bless  you,  and  make  you  a  blessing  to 
your  father,  and  your  dear,  dear  mother,  your  brothers 
and  sisters — a  large  blessing.  Be  ambitious,  if  I  may 
so  speak,  to  be  useful.  I  have  often  prayed  for  you  : 
pity  mr,  and  pray  for  7ne.  You  see  me  a  great  sufferer  : 
but  oh  think  not  worse  of  Christ,  or  worse  of  religion, 
for  that.  Think  worse  of  si7i :  none  suffer  but  sinners.' 
— He  again  blessed  him  with  great  affection,  adding, 
*  The  angel  that  redeemed  me  from  all  evil  bless  the  lads  ! 
— you,  your  brothers,  and  all  your  cousins,  &c.  &c.' 

''  One  thing  is  not  to  be  forgotten  concerning  these 
benedictions  which  he  continued  to  pronounce  upon  his 
grandson,  that,  though  he  much  longed  that  he  should 
be  a  minister,  he  yet  solemnly  warned  him  not  to  take 
the  sacred  office  upon  him,  unless  he  was  conscious  of  a 
heart  devoted  to  the  work  of  it.  *  Rather,'  said  he, 
'  make  forks  and  rakes,  rather  plough  the  ground  and 
thresh  the  corn,  than  be  an  indolent  ungodly  clergyman.' 

^^  He  begged  his  curate  to  forgive  him  if  he  had  been 
occasionally  rough  and  sharp.  '  I  meant  it  for  your  good  : 
but,  like  every  thing  of  mine,  it  was  mixed  with  sin. — 
Impute  it  not,  however,  to  my  religion,  but  to  my  want 
of  more  religion.' 

^^  To  his  nephew,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Webster,  (who 
came  this  evening,)  he  said  :  '  Hate  sin  more — Love 
Christ  more — pray  more  earnestly. — Beware  of  covet- 
ousness. — Your  College  feasts  are  sad  things  : — Avoid 
animal  indulgences,  if  you  would  lie  easy  on  a  dying 
bed.' 

^'  He  slept  much  in  the  evening  ;  but  almost  always 
awoke  praying.  Once  he  said,  '  Change  this  vile  body 
of  fmmiliationy  that  it  may  be  like  thy  glorified  body^ 
0  Saviour  !  but  above  all,  let  me  have  thy  glorious  holi- 
ness  both  of  body  and  soul!' — '  How  varying  are  my 


1^^1'J  AND   DEATH.  5^4^ 

feelings  !  But  the  great  event  cannot  depend  on  what 
passes  in  a  few  half- delirious  days.  No,  my  hope  rests 
on  a  better  foundation  :  it  depends  on  my  receiving  the 
reconciliation^-'on  my  being  found  in  Christ— made 
the  righteousness  of  God  in  him.  Oh  for  faith— /a?7/4 
that  worheth  by  love—purifieth  the  heart-^^vercometh 
the  worlds — He  repeated  many  texts,  verses  of  hymns, 
^c.  among  them,  with  great  emphasis, 

*  I  wait  for  thy  salvation,  Lord, 

With  strong  desires  I  wait ; 
My  soul,  encouraged  by  thy  word, 

Stands  watching  at  thy  gate.' 

He  again  repeated  his  expressions  of  good  will  to  all,  and 
particularly  his  prayers  for  those  who  had  opposed  his 
views  of  the  gospel. 

''  Wednesday  morning,  March  28.     He  has  slept  a 
good  deal,  and  is  calm  and  cheerful,  though  in  great  suf- 
fering.— ^This,'  he  has  said,  ^ismy  last  day.  Still  I  have 
the  last  struggle  to  pass,   and  what  that  is,   what  that 
lorench  is,  who  can  tell  me  ?  Lord,   give  me  patience, 
fortitude,    holy  courage  ! — I  have   heard   persons  treat 
almost  with  ridicule  the  expression,   Pu.t  underneath  me 
the  everlasting  arms  /f     But  it  is  exactly  what  I  want — 
everlasting  arms  to  raise  me  up ;  to  be  strengthened  with 
might  by  his  Spirit  in  the  inner  man, — I  am  in  full 
possession  of  all  my  faculties  :  I  know  I  am  dying  :  I  feel 
the  immense,  the  infinite  importance  of  the  crisis  :  Lord 
Jesus  rceive  my  spirit !     Thou  art  ^all  I  want :'  '  JVane 
but  Jesus  can  do  helpless  sinners  good.' — Blessed  be  God 
there  is  one  Saviour,  though  but  one  in  the  whole  uni- 
verse :  and 

*  Rom.  V.  11.  Gr.         f  Dent,  xxxiii.  27. 


'>'^0  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.  XVI. 

His  love  is  as  ^rcat  as  his  power 
And  neither  knows  measure  nor  end. 
'Tis  Jesus  the  first  and  the  last 

Whose  Spirit  shall  guide  us  safe  home  : 
We'll  praise  him  for  all  that  is  past, 

And  trust  him  for  all  that's  to  come. 

— Had  any  other  done  wliat  Christ  has  for  us — raised  us 
from  such  a  deplorable,  lost,  wicked  state — shed  his  blood 
for  us — sent  his  Spirit  to  quicken  us ;  would  he  not  be 
greatly  affronted  if  we  were  to  doubt  his  perfecting  his 
own  work  ?  And  yet  we  are  apt  to  doubt  Christ's  love. 
God  forgive  us  that,  with  all  the  rest  of  our  offences  ! — 
He  that  spared  not  his  own  son^  but  delivered  him  up  for 
us  all,  how  shall  he  not^  ivith  hiin^  also  freely  give  us  all 
things  P 

Sin  my  worst  enemy  before — 

Ah  !  infinitely  the  worst ! 

Sin  my  worst  enemy  before 
Shall  vex  my  eyes  and  ears  no  more  : 
My  inward  foes  shall  all  be  slain, 
Nor  Satan  break  my  peace  again  V 

*'•  While  w^e  were  at  family  worship,  he  prayed  aloud 
the  whole  time,  and  with  his  usual  minuteness  of  inter- 
cession— for  his  family  (naming  the  particular  branches,) 
- — his  parish — the  young — his  benefactors — his  enc7nies — 
his  country — prisoners — various  different  classes  of  sin- 
ners— enlarging  his  views  and  petitions  to  every  part  of 
the  world. 

^^  He  wished  again  to  receive  the  holy  sacrament,  if 
it  was  judged  proper.  ^  I  mean  it  not,'  he  said,-  '  as  a 
form,  but  as  means  of  grace,  appointed  by  the  Saviour.' 
After  receiving  it,  he  was  much  exhausted,  and  said  but 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  521 

little.  On  awaking  from  sleep  after  some  time,  he  said, 
^  We  have  had,  I  think,  a  sacrament  of  love  :  no  resent- 
ment, no  ill-will,  no  heart-burnings  ;  all  good- will,  all 
love  of  God  and  of  one  another  for  Christ's  sake.' 

"  March  28.  He  again  blessed  bis  grandson  with  great 
affection,  and  said,  ^I  cannot  say  as  Christ  did,  My  peace 
I  give  unto  you :  I  cannot  wish  efficaciously^  only  benev- 
olently :  but  I  mean  what  I  say  ;  and  that  is  not  what  you 
will  find  many  do  in  this  world.  It  is  a  very  insincere 
world  ;  and  a  man  who  always  means  what  he  speaks  is 
not  a  common  character  :  but  he  is  often  thought  an  im- 
pleasant  man, — as  I  have  been.' 

"  He  is  so  gentle  and  loving,  it  is  so  delightful  to  at- 
tend upon  him,  that  the  servants,  finding  themselves  in 
danger  of  contention  which  should  wait  upon  him  with 
refreshments,  &c.,  agreed  together  to  take  it  by  turns, 
that  each  might  have  her  due  share  of  the  pleasure  and 
benefit.  And  yet  he  is  continually  begging  our  forgive- 
ness for  his  impatience  and  want  of  thankfulness,  and  en- 
treating our  prayers  that  God  mav  forgive  him. 

"  '  Our  light  affiiction,  which  is  but  for  a  moment^ 
ivorkethfor  us  afar  more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of 
glory, — light  compared  with  what  sin  deserves — with 
what  the  damned  endure — with  what  the  Saviour  suffer- 
ed.'— He  went  through  the  whole  passage,  commenting 
on  every  expression    but  was  not  distinctly  audible. 

"  To  one  of  his  servants  :  '  Pray  for  me  :  I  value  your 
prayers  ;  and  that  not  a  whit  the  less  because  you  are  a 
servant.  I  have  often  prayed  for  you,  and  I  trust  that 
blessings  have  come  upon  you  in  consequence  :  Pray  for 
me,  that,  through  your  prayers,  thanksgivings  may  re- 
dound unto  God.' 

"  '  Our  happiness  here,  little  as  it  is,  consists  in  hun- 
gering and  thirsting,  (Matt.  v.  6.)  but  there  we  shall 

3U 


522  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.   XVI. 

hunger  no  m^re^  neitlur  thirst  any  inore, — Now  he  is 
satisfied :  JVow  he  is  comforted?     (Luke  xvi.  25.) 

'^  He  often  checks  Ins  anxious  desire  to  depart,  and 
prays  to  he  enaljlcd  to  wait  patiently — '  that  patience 
may  have  her  perfect  work.^  Yet  he  dreads  the  last  un- 
known agony.  He  speaks  of  it  as  the  effect  of  sin,  and 
therefore  terrible. 

"  In  great  suffering  in  the  evening,  he  exclaimed,  '  0 
death,  when  wilt  thou  com€  and  finish  this  ?  Thou  an- 
swerest,  When  God  sends  me. — Grant  me  patience,  mer- 
ciful God  !' — He  then  remarked  on  this  :  ^  This  is  almost 
like  praying  to  death.  How  much  tendency  is  there  to 
such  random  stuff  among  protestants,  as  well  as  among  pa- 
pists, when  the  mind  is  excited.' 

'*  He  now  received  intelligence,  with  great  pleasure 
and  gratitude,  of  the  birth  of  another  grand-daughter,  and 
some  time  after  said,  '  I  have  twenty  one  grand-children ; 
the  Lord  bless  them  with  all  spiritual  blessings,  and  make 
them  blessings,  large  blessings  in  their  families — to  the 
church — and  to  the  world. —  The  God  which  fed  me  all 
my  life  long  bless  them  !  It  matters  little  what  their  sta- 
tion here  is — even  if  servants,  like  Jacob  : — the  angel 
which  redeemed  me  from  all  evil  bless  them!  Only  re- 
deem them  from  all  evil — from  sin — from  guilt — from  the 
devil — from  this  present  evil  world — and  bring  them  to 
everlasting  glory  !' 

''  Thursday  morning,  March  29.  On  my  entering  the 
room — '  Again  we  meet  once  more.  Oh  how  long  will 
this  last  ?  I  feel  as  if  1  could  not  die.  What  need  have 
I  of  patience  and  submission  ?  ' — It  was  suggested  that  he 
was  kept  here  to  do  us  good.  *  Oh,'  said  he,  <  my  sel- 
fishness !  I  feel  it  difficult  to  be  willing  to  stay,  even  if 
it  were  so.  But  I  do  so  fear  doing  you  harm  :  being  car- 
ried away,  in  great  suffering,  by  any  sudden  temptation, 


^^^^•3  AND  DEATH.  523 

to  say  or  do  what  may  injure  you.— But  I  leave  this  ;  and 
commit  myself  to  the  care  of  the  merciful  Saviour.' 

^^  He  continually  dwells  on  the  sacramental  service, 
and  repeats  passages  from  it,  particularly  that  prayer, 
^  that  we  may  be  full-filled  with  thy  grace  and  heavenly 
benediction.' 

''  Referring  to  his  death,  he  said  :  <  I  hope  my  family 
have  too  much  good  sense  to  make  a  raree-shew  of  my 
funeral,  either  as  respects  the  manner,  or  the  place,  or 
the  tomb-stone,  or  any  inscription  upon  it.  Hath  death 
its  fopperies  ! — I  should  wish  every  thing  to  be  merely 
decorous — below  j&«r — indeed  considerably  below  par  to 
what  is  usual  on  such  occasions.  If  it  be  judged  quite  es- 
sential for  a  parson  to  lie  within  the  church-walls,  I  will 
not  put  such  a  negative  upon  it  as  would  be  distressing 
to  survivors,  though  I  think  the  dirtiest  hole  good  enough. 
Whoever  is  paid,  I  wish  the  men  who  carry  me  to  that 
long  home  to  be  amply  remunerated.  There  is  a  long 
document  which  I  wrote  some  years  ago — a  sort  of  coun- 
terpart to  the  Force  of  Truth  ;  I  do  not  wish  any  use  to 
be  made  of  it,  but  perhaps  it  may  prevent  errors  and  mis- 
takes.    I  want  no  memoirs  nor  obituaries.' 

"  On  another  occasion,  he  desired  that,  if  any  funeral 
sermon  were  to  be  preached  for  him,  it  might  by  all 
means  be  on  a  week-day,  not  on  a  Sunday  :  probably 
from  tenderness  for  the  feelings  of  neighbouring  minis- 
ters, whose  congregations  might  otherwise  be  drawn  away 
from  them  on  the  occasion.  And  he  intimated  that 
the  sentence,  God  be  merciful  to  mc  a  sinner,  (Luke 
xviii.  13.)  might  furnish  a  very  proper  text:''  dwell- 
ing on  the  word  \k^<f^mt,  as  implying  mercy  through  a 
propitiation  ;  and  the  words  t^.  ot/*«/.T«A»,  as  signifying  em- 
phatically the  sinner. 

After  my  arrival  (on  Thursday,  March  29,)  fewer 


324  "  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS^  [ChAP.  XVI. 

notes  were  made.  He  frequently  slumbered  a  good  deal^ 
and  said  less  than  before.  One  object,  moreover,  propos- 
ed in  the  memerandums  no  longer  required  them.  My 
sister,  however,  has  made  the  following  minutes  : 

^^  He  still  observed  how  his  time  passed,  and  lamented 
his  incapacity  to  spend  it  constantly  in  prayer  and  praise. 
^  could  I  be  sure,'  he  said,  '  that  I  was  totally  unable,  I 
should  be  more  satisfied  :  but  I  feel  guilty.  I  seem  at  such 
times  of  stupor  as  if  I  had  not  fellowship  either  with  the 
church  on  earth,  or  that  in  heaven. 

^^On  one  occasion,  after  complaining  of  interruption 
by  which  he  had  been  '  kept  from  praying,  he  thought, 
for  an  hour  and  a  half.'  on  being  reminded  how  soon  he 
would  serve  God  night  without  ceasing,  he  exclaimed, 
with  an  energy  of  which  we  thought  him  incapable,  '  0 
what  a  transition  !' 

**  On  Tuesday,  April  11,  my  two  younger  brothers, 
with  his  grandson,  were  compelled  to  leave  him.  The 
pai'ting  was  solemn  and  deeply  affecting.  He  poured 
forth  prayers  for  them  and  theirs  with  his  usual  fervour ; 
and  continued,  long  after  they  left  the  room,  raising 
his  liands  and  eyes  to  heaven  in  silent  supplication,  with 
an  expression  of  countenance  which  can  never  be  forgot- 
ten by  those  who  witnessed  it. 

"  On  Sunday,  April  15,  he  dismissed  me  to  church  in 
a  very  animated  manner.  After  blessing  me,  and  im- 
ploring blessings  on  all  who  should  worship  with  me,  and 
on  the  congregations  of  Christ's  church,  he  said,  raising 
his  hands  with  great  animation,  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God, 
the  God  of  Israel,  who  only  doetli  wondrous  things,  and 
let  the  whole  earth  be  filled  with  his  glory.  He  is 
highly  exalted  above  all  blessmg  and  praise, 

"  (Jn  our  return,  he  said  to  his  curate,  *  I  hoped  I 
should  have  done  first.'     Mr.  A.  congratulated  him  on 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  525 

the  happiness  he  enjoyed.  ^No/  he  said,  you  are  mis- 
taken :  my  soul  is  not  happy  noiv  ;  it  is  still  diseased  : 
but  I  am  waiting,  and  expecting  soon  to  be  quite  happy.' 
Still  his  feeling  was,  that  nothing  but  heaven  could  sa- 
tisfy his  enlarged  desires.  He  added  many  prayers  for 
Mr.  A.,  and  for  the  success  of  his  ministry. 

^^  On  Monday,  while  he  was  suffering  great  oppression, 
he  said  to  the  poor  afflicted  woman,  who  had  so  long  been 
an  inmate  in  his  family  :  '  This  is  hard  work  :  but  let  us 
think  of  heaven  ;  let  us  hope  for  heaven  ;  let  us  pray  for 
heaven.      Wie  shall  soon  meet  again.'  " 

In  letters  to  friends,  or  members  of  the  family  still  ab- 
sent, a  few  sentences  have  likewise  been  preserved.  In 
this  way,  his  obsersvations  on  '  posthumous  reputation  ;' 
his  prayers  ^  not  to  be  abhorred  of  God,  though  abhorri- 
ble,  and  abhorring  himself — to  be  made  ^  one  of  those 
in  whom  Christ  should  come  to  be  admired  in  that  day  ;' 
and  some  others,  have  been  already  reported. 

It  may  be  remarked,  in  general,  that  his  use  of  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Lord's  prayer  was  continual,  during  every 
part  of  his  illness ;  as  was  likewise  that  of  various  parts 
of  the  Church  Liturgy,  particularly  of  the  Communion 
Service,  and  the  sentence  in  the  Burial  Service,  "  Suf- 
fer me  not,  at  my  last  hour,  for  any  pains  of  death  to  fall 
from  thee !'' 

His  constant  recurrence  to  my  expression,  "  In  God's 
good  time,"  continued  to  the  very  end  of  his  illness.  On 
another  occasion,  on  my  suggesting  the  great  tenderness 
of  the  language  in  the  ciiid  Psalm,  ''  Like  as  a  father 
pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  tliein  that  fear 
himj^^  he  expressed  his  sense  of  it,  and  immediately  con- 
nected with  it  one  in  the  Liturgy,  which  he  said  he 
greatly  admired—' '  Let  the  pitifidness  of  thy  great  mercy 
loose  us."— Another  time  I  reminded  him  of  one  of  the 


326  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ClIAP.  X^l. 

triiimphant  verses  at  the  close  of  the  Ixxiiid  Psalm  ;  and, 
on  his  questioning  whether  it  might  be  applied  to  him, 
(as  I  was  aware  he  might  probably  do,)  I  remarked  the 
writer  s  darkness  and  temptation  in  the  former  part  of 
the  psalm — as  if  ^^  God  had  forgotten  to  be  gracious," 
and  had  *^  shut  up  his  loving-kindness  in  displeasure" — 
but  that  in  the  end  he  found  it  was  ^^  his  own  infirmity,'^ 
and  that  he  was  •^continually  with  God,"  God  had  all  the 
time  ''  holden  him  by  his  right  hand."  (Verse  23.)  He 
replied,  ''  Well,  it  is  one  of  the  passages  that  I  keep 
xvoi^king  upoji.^^ — One  morning,  near  the  close  of  his 
life,  I  expressed  regret  that  he  had  spent  so  distressing 
a  night :  his  reply  was  in  the  one  word  "  Past .'"  with 
an  air  of  indifference  to  it,  as  having  no  longer  any  ex- 
istence. 

Some  further  passages  from  the  obituary  may  here  be 
introduced. 

"  Throughout  his  illness,  all  his  tempers  and  disposi- 
tions marked  a  soul  ripe  for  heaven.  His  patience  was 
most  exemplary,  though  this  was  the  grace  which,  almost 
more  than  any  other,  he  feared  would  fail  ;  but  it  in- 
creased to  the  end.  On  the  only  point  on  which  any 
approach  to  impatience  had  been  discovered — his  desh^e 
to  depart — he  had  become  almost  perfectly  resigned  ; 
and  though  he  still  inquired  frequently  if  any  '  token 
for  good,'  as  he  called  the  symptoms  of  dissolution,  ap- 
peared, yet  on  receiving  a  negative  answer,  he  only  ob- 
served, '  Then  I  must  seek  a  fresh  stock  of  patience.' — 
His  kindness  and  affection,  to  all  who  approached  him, 
were  carried  to  the  greatest  height,  and  shewed  them- 
selves in  a  singularly  minute  attention  to  all  their  feel- 
ings, and  whatever  might  be  for  their  comfort,  to  a  de- 
gree that  was  quite  affecting  ;  especially  at  a  time  when 
he  was  suffering  so  much  himself,  often  in  mind  as  well 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  5(27 

as  body. — Even  in  the  darkest  times,  Thou  art  righte- 
ous !  Father,  glorify  thy  name  !  solemnly  enuncia- 
ted, was  the  sentence  most  frequently  on  his  lips,  and 
marked  his    profound  submission. — His    humility  and 
sense  of  utter  unvvorthiness  seemed  more  deep  than  words 
could  express. — It  need  scarcely  be  said  that  Christ  was 
now  more  precious  in  his  eyes  than  ever  ;  and  his  ex- 
pressions of  exclusive,  undivided,  and  adoring  adherence 
to  him  for  salvation,    if  possible  more  strong. —  \t  the 
same  time,   he  refused  the   appropriation    to  himself  of 
those  promises  which   belong  only  to  true  believers  in 
Christ,  except  as  it  could  be  shewn  that  he  bore  the  cha- 
racter commonly  annexed  to  the  promise — such  as  those 
that /ear  the  Lord,  that  love  God,  repent^  believe,  and 
obey.     When  he  could  not  trace  this  in  himself,  he  would 
have  recourse  only  to  those  which  encourage  even  the 
chief  of  sinners  to  come  to  Christ,  and  assure  them,  that 
him  that  comcth  he  will  in  no  wise  cast  out. 

"  In  this  connexion  it  may  be  remarked,  that  whate- 
ver dissatisfaction  with  himself  he  at  any  time  expressed, 
he  never  intimated  the  least  wavering  as  to  the  truths 
which  he  had  spent  his  life  in  inculcating,  or  impeached 
his  own  sincerity  and  faithfulness  in  the  discharge  of  his 

ministry." 

lonly  add  further,  that  he  would  always,  when  he  re- 
receiv«d  the  sacrament,  and,  after  a  short  prayer,  which, 
during  the  latter  part  of  the  time,  we  every  night  offer- 
ed up  wit\i  him,  have  repeated  to  him  the  affecting  com- 
mendation \n  the  service  for  the  Visitation  of  the  Sick  : 
"  Unto  God^s  gracious  mercy  and  protection  we  commit 
thee  :  the  Lord  bless  thee  and  keep  thee  :  the  Lord 
make  his  face  to  shine  upon  thee,  and  be  gracious  unto 
thee  :  the  Lord  lift  up  his  countenance  upon  thee,  and 
give  thee  peace,  both  now  and  evermore ;"  and  most 


528  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS,  [ChAP.   XVI. 

affecting  was  the  solemnity  with  which  he    listened,  and 
pronounced  his  Amen  to  it. 

Three  days  after  his  death,  I  made  the  following  mem- 
orandum of 

"  His  FEAKS  ivhich  were  never  realized, 

"  1.  That  he  should  bring  any  blot  upon  his  profession. 
In  addition  to  the  dread  with  which  every  zealous  Chris- 
tian, who  loves  God  and  man,  will  regard  such  an  event, 
he  felt  himself  placed  in  a  peculiar  situation,  on  account 
of  the  attention  which  he  had  attracted  :  that  many  eyes 
were  upon  him  :  that  a  material  false  step  or  inconsisten- 
cy in  liim  might,  in  a  great  degree,  frustrate  the  labours 
of  a  long  and  indefatigable  life.  This  was  not  merely 
the  apprehension  of  his  death -bed,  but  one  which  had 
for  years  influenced  him  to  loalk  circumspectly.  But 
now  he  rests  from  all  such  anxiety.  All  danger  of  this 
kind  is  past  forever.  Death  has  put  his  broad  seal  upon 
the  whole,  and  rendered  what  is  done  irrevocable.  And, 
blessed  be  God  !  the  whole  is  substantially  good. 

"  2.  Lest,  in  a  period  of  enfeebled  powers,  he  should 
unsay  any  thing,  which,  in  a  more  sound  state  of  mind, 
he  had  inculcated,  and  should  thus  convey  any  less  strici 
and  less  scriptural  views  of  Christian  truth  and  dut/  ; 
and  that  this,  getting  abroad,  should  weaken  the  ctfect 
of  what  he  had  previously  taught.  But,  so  far  from  this 
being  the  case,  whatever  passed,  even  to  his  latest  hour, 
has  tended  more  deeply  to  impr:'ss  the  serious,  holy, 
practical  views  of  the  gospel  wliich  he  always  presented. 

^^3.  Lest,  even  under  the  influence  of  delirium,  he 
should  be  driven  to  say  or  do  any  thing  offensive  or  dis- 
honourable to  God.  He  trembled  lest,  in  this  way  at  least, 
Satan  should  get  any  advantage  against  Jiini,  and  thus 


1821.]  AND  DEATH.  529 

take  some  ^revenge  on  him' at  last,  for  what  he  had  done 
against  his  kingdom  daring  life.  He  seemed  to  appre- 
hend a  peculiar  '  effort'  of  this  sort  against  him  ;  and 
therefore  prayed  constantly,  Bruise  Satan  under  my  feet 
shortly :  and  deprecated  most  earnestly  the  least  failure 
of  patience  and  resignation  to  the  will  of  God. — And  in 
these  respects  too  he  was  heard  in  that  he  feared.  No- 
thing amountintr  to  what  is  commonly  esteemed  delirium 
ever  occurred  :  nor  did  a  word  expressive  of  any  thing 
contrary  to  the  deepest  piety  and  submission  escape  his 
lips.  And  his  patience,  under  protracted  and  often  very 
severe  suffering,  it  was  perfectly  delightful  to  behold. 

"  4.  At  times,  though  not  generally,  he  even  dreaded 
the  consequences  of  death  :  '  Not,'  said  he,  (as  it  has  al- 
ready been  related,)  '  that  I  have  not  prevailing  hope.' 
But,  about  ten  days  before  his  death,  he  observed.  •  I 
have  not  the  dread  which  I  felt  of  the  consequences  of 
death  ;'  and  he  said  little  afterwards  that  indicated  any 
return  of  it. 

"5,  But  a  dread  of  death  itself,  of  the  act  and  agony 
of  dying,  next  harassed  his  mind.  '  No  man,'  he  said, 
'  can  tell  me  what  death  is  ;  and  I  have  an  iron-strenij^th 
of  constitution  which  makes  me  tremble  for  the  last  strug- 
gle.'— But  this  too  subsided,  and  disappeared  :  and,  when 
the  time  came,  oh  how  mercifully  was  he,  and  were  we 
alK  dealt  with,  even  in  this  minor  consideration  !  There 
was  no  agony,  no  struggle  whatever.  His  countenance 
assumed  a  placid  expression — one  might  always  say.  a 
sweet  and  heavenly  smile  :  and  the  whole  appearance  was 
more  like  that  of  an  infant  sinking  into  sleep,  than  that 
of  a  strong  man  expiring." 

6.  It  might  have  been  added,  that,  whereas  he  had 
anticipated  at  least  departing  under  gloom  and  dai-kriess, 
his  darkness  from  time  to  time  dispersed,  and  a  heavenly 

3   X 


536  HIS  LAST  ILLNESS, &C.     [ChAF.  XVI. 

light  shone  in  upon  his  mind.  The  cheerful,  as  well  as 
holy,  sentiments  which  he  expressed  on  Sunday,  the  day 
before  his  death,  have  been  recorded,  and  the  "  delight- 
ful things"  which  he  uttered  on  the  day  of  his  dissolution 
have  been  alluded  to,  though  no  distinct  memorandum 
was  made  of  them. — On  the  whole,  therefore,  we  may 
with  adoring  thankfulness,  conclude — 

"  Not  one  thing  that  he  feared  came  upon  him  : 
but  every  hope  was  realized  or  exceeded.'^ 


1821.]  CHARACTER  AND  HABITS, 


531 


CHAPTER  XVIL 


HIS  CHARACTER HABITS SENTIMENTS  ON  EDUCATION. 

I 

It  has  been  my  aim,  in  the  preceding  memoirs,  to 
place  the  subject  of  them  so  fully  in  the  view  of  my 
readers-— speaking,  writing,  acting  before  them, — as  to 
achieve  that  which  an  ancient  Roman  poet  is  said  to 
have  accomplished  in  his  own  writings — 

Ut  omnis 
Votiva  pateat  veluti  descripta  tabella 
Vita  senis. 

So  far  therefore  as  I  have  attained  my  object,  the  neces- 
sity of  any  elaborate  attempt,  on  my  part,  to  delineate 
my  father's  character  is  superseded :  he  must  be  al- 
ready better  known  than  mere  discription  could  make 
him. 

Mr.  Wilson,  however,  has  given  to  the  public,  in  his 
funeral  sermons,  a  very  masterly  sketch  of  "  the  chief 
circumstances  both  of  the  public  and  private  character' 
of  his  departed  friend,  which  I  slK)uld  feel  it  a  very  es- 
sential omission  not  to  introduce  into  tlie  present  work. 
This  therefore  I  shall  inseK,— premising  that  it  will 
serve  to  characterize  some  of  my  fathers  principal  writings, 
as  well  as  to  pourtray  their  author.  After  this  I  shaU  sub- 


532  cHAiiACTEU^  [Chap.  XVII. 

join  some  additional  particulai^,  which  have  occurred  to 
my  own  mind. 

"  In  considering  the  public  labours  of  our  venerable 
friend,''  observes  Mr.  W..  wc  shall  find  that,  after  the 
Apostle's  example,  he  fought  a  good  Jlght^  finished  his 
course^  and  kept  the  faith. 

"  The  maimer  in  which  he  was  called  to  the  spiritual 
combat  was  remarkable.  His  narrative  of  this  spiritual 
change,  we  may  venture  to  assert,  will  be  classed  in  fu- 
ture times  with  the  most  important  of  those  various 
works,  which  in  different  ages  have  recorded  the  tri- 
umphs of  the  gospel  of  Christ.  '  The  Force  of  Truth' 
cannot  indeed  be  equalled  with  '  The  Confessions  of  St. 
Augustine  :'  but  it  bears  a  general  similarity  to  that  in- 
comparable work,  in  exemplifying  the  main  features  of 
a  truly  Christian  conversion,  in  affording  a  striking  illus- 
tration of  the  divine  grace,  and  in  setting  before  us  an 
impressive  picture  of  a  laborious  and  successful  investiga- 
tion of  truth.  It  reminds  the  reader  yet  more  sensibly, 
though  still  with  a  wide  interval,  of  the  early  history  of 
Luther,  and  of  the  painful  working  out  of  his  own  way 
by  intense  prayer  and  study  of  the  scriptures  which  dis- 
tinguished that  great  reformer.  The  church  has,  in  fact, 
seen  few  examples,  in  these  latter  days,  of  the  efficacy 
of  the  doctrine  of  Christ  so  minutely  and  satisfactorily 
detailed  bj  the  avowels  of  the  individuals  themselves,  as 
in  the  instance  which  we  are  now  considering.  We  here 
behold  a  man  ot  strong  natural  powers,  intrenched  in  the 
so|)histries  of  hum^i  pride,  and  a  determined  opponent 
of  almost  all  the  chi-f  truths  of  the  gospel,  gradually 
convinced  and  subdueU.  We  see  him  engaging  in  a  la- 
borious study  of  the  scri]>«:ure  with  opinions  and  preju- 
firiuly  fixed,  and  reluctant  to  admit  a  humiliating  scheme 
of  theology  :  yet  borne  on,  contrary  to  his  expectations 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  533 

and  wishes  and  worldly  interest,  by  the  simple  energy 
of  truth.  We  view  him  arriving,  to  his  own  dismay,  at 
one  doctrine  after  another.  We  behold  him  making  every 
step  sure  as  he  advances,  till  he  at  length  works  out,  by 
his  own  diligent,  and  most  anxious  investigation  of  the 
sacred  volume,  all  the  parts  of  divine  truth,  which  he  af- 
terwards discovered  to  bethecommon  faith  of  the  church 
of  Christ,  to  be  the  foundation  of  all  the  reformed  com- 
munities, and  to  be  essentially  united  with  every  part  of 
divine  revelation.  He  was  thus  taught  the  apostolical 
doctrines  of  the  deep  fall  and  apostacy  of  man,  of  his  im- 
potency  to  any  thing  spiritually  good,  the  proper  atone- 
ment and  satisfaction  of  Christ,  the  triunity  of  persons 
in  the  Godhf^ad,  regeneration  and  progressive  sanctifica- 
tion  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  justification  by  faith  only,  and 
salvation  by  grace.  These  great  principles  he  perceiv- 
ed to  be  indissolubly  connected  with  repentance  unto  life, 
separation  from  the  sinful  customs  and  spirit  of  the  world, 
self  denial  and  the  bearing  of  reproach  for  Christ's  sake, 
holy  love  to  God  and  man,  and  activity  in  every  good 
word  and  work. — Further  he  learnt  to  unite  both  these 
series  of  truths  with  dependence  upon  Christ  for  the  sup- 
ply of  needful  grace,  humble  trust  in  his  promises  for 
final  victory,  and  an  unreserved  ascription  of  all  bless- 
ings to  the  divine  grace. — Lastly,  and  after  some  inter- 
val, he  embraced  the  doctrines  reb ting  to  the  secret  and 
merciful  will  of  God  in  our  election  in  Christ  Jesus  ;  al- 
though he  did  not  think  a  belief  in  these  mysterious  doc- 
trines to  be  indispensable  to  salvation,  nor  consider  the 
evidence  for  them,  satisi\ictory  as  he  deemed  it,  to  carry 
with  it  that  irresistible  conviction  which  had  attended 
his  inquiries  with  respect  to  those  essential  and  directly 
vital  tri!ths  of  religion  before  enumerated.  The  whole 
narrative  of  the  change  which  led  to  tiic  adoption  of  these 


534  CHARACTER,  [ChAP.  XVII. 

views  of  religion,  is  so  honest,  and  so  evidently  free 
from  enthusiasm,  as  to  constitute  a  most  striking  testimo- 
ny to  the  cnicacy  of  the  grace  of  God. 

^'  After  he  had  once  discovered  and  embraced  in  all 
their  fulness  and  practical  application,  the  chief  doctrines 
of  the  New  Testament,  he  may  truly  be  said  to  have 
kept  the  faith  with  undeviating  constancy.  During 
forty- five  years  he  continued  to  teach  and  write  and  live 
in  the  spirit  of  those  holy  principles.  What  he  was  with 
respect  to  them,  in  the  earliest  part  of  this  period,  the 
same  he  continued  in  the  latest,  except  as  each  year  added 
something  to  his  conviction  of  their  truth,  and  to  the 
maturity  of  his  judgment  respecting  them.  There  are 
few  writers  in  whom  consistency  is  so  strikingly  observa- 
ble through  so  many  voluminous  works.*  He  was  placed 
at  different  periods  of  his  life  in  many  scenes  of  peculiar 
difficulty,  where  the  current  of  opinion  within  as  well  as 
without  his  own  more  immediate  circle,  might  have  in- 
duced him  to  vary  or  conceal  the  faith  upon  some  points 
of  impartance;  but  nothing  moved  him  fro?n  his  oivii 
steadfastness. -\  Nor  was  his  scheme  of  doctrine  more 
apostolical,  than  his  method  of  publicly  expounding  and 
applying  it  in  his  sermons  and  writings.  He  kept  the  faith, 
by  ever  maintaining  a  theology,  not  only  pure  and  or- 
thodox as  to  its  constituent  elements  and  general  charac- 
ter, but  scripturally  exact  in  the  arrangement,  the  pro- 
portions, the  symmetry,  the  harmony  of  its  several  doc- 
trines, and  in  the  use  to  which  each  was,  on  the  proper 
occasion,  applied.  In  this  view,  the  habit  which  he  had 
been  led  to  form  of  studying  the  scripture  for  himself,  and 
of  diligently  comparing  all  its  parts  with  each  other,  was 
of  essential  service.  He  was  not  a  man  of  ordinary  mould. 

*  Six  volumes  quarto,  and  nine  or  ten  large  volumes  octavo. 
t  2  Pel.  iii.  17. 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  535 

The  humble  submission  to  every  part  of  divine  revelation, 
the  abstinance  from  metaphysical  subtilties,  the  entire  re- 
liance on  the  inspired  doctrine  in  all  its  bearings  and  con- 
sequences, the  candour  on  points  really  doubtful  or  of 
less  vital  importance,  which  are  the  characteristics  of  his 
writings,  give  them  extrordinary  value.  While,  for  ex- 
ample, he  firmly  believed  the  essential  and  vital  truths 
which  I  before  noticed,  he  held  with  no  less  firmness  the 
accountableness  of  man,  the  perpetual  obligation  of  the 
holy  law,  the  necessity  of  addressing  the  hearts  and  con- 
sciences of  sinners,  and  of  using  without  reserve  the  com- 
mands, cautious,  and  threatenings  so  copiously  employed 
in  the  inspired  book  ;  the  importance  of  close  inquiries 
into  the  detail  of  private,  social,  and  relative  duties,  the 
necessity  of  pointing  out  those  imperfections  of  temper 
or  practice,  by  which  a  false  religion  betrays  its  unsound- 
ness,  and  of  following  out  the  grand  branches  of  scrip- 
ture morals  into  their  proper  fruits  in  the  regulation  of 
the  life.  In  a  word,  he  entered  as  fully  into  the  great 
system  of  plain  means  and  duties,  on  the  one  hand,  as  of 
the  mysterious  doctrines  of  divine  grace  on  the  other.  He 
united  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  and  St.  James. 

"  With  such  fidelity,  we  wonder  not  that  he  had,  like 
the  Apostle  before  him,  to  fight  a  good  fight.  He  was 
not  a  man  to  receive  the  impression  of  his  age,  but  give 
it.  On  various  occasions  he  thought  it  incumbent  on  him 
to  come  forward  publicly  in  defence  of  the  faitli  of  the 
gospel ;  a  task  in  the  execution  of  which  the  firmest  ad- 
herence to  truth,  and  a  candid  treatment  of  his  opponents, 
were  ever  united  with  singular  knowledge  of  scripture, 
with  great  acuteness  of  reasoning,  and  with  a  simple  ho- 
nesty of  purpose  and  of  principle,  which  it  was  diflicult 
for  an  impartial  inquirer  to  withstand.  At  the  time  when 
he  first  began  to  preach  the  gospel  faithfully,  he  found 


536  CHARACTER,  [Chap.  XVIL 

many  who  had  habituated  themselves  to  such  statemente 
of  the  grace  and  privileges  of  Christianity?  as  tended  in- 
sensibly to  injure  the  minds  of  their  hearers,  by  inducing 
them  to  separate  the  duties  of  the  Bible  from  itsdoctrin^  s. 
With  such  fatal  errors  he  made  no  compromise.  His 
early  writings  were  chiefly  directed  against  this  class  of 
ten<"ts,  which,  however  unintentionally  on  the  part  of 
some  who  maintained  them,  verged  towards  the  Antino- 
mian  heresy.  At  a  later  period  he  engaged  in  a  very 
different  service — a  contest  with  the  adherents  of  infide- 
lity. Towards  the  close  of  his  days,  opinions  tending  to 
magnify  human  merit,  and  in  their  effect  subversive  of 
the  doctrines  of  divine  grace,  attracted  his  notice,  and 
were  encountered  by  him  with  the  same  manliness  of  re- 
sistance, which  in  earlier  life  he  had  opposed  to  errors  of 
contrary  description.  In  all  these  instances  few  will  hesi- 
tate to  allow  that  he  fought  a  good  fight.  The  preju- 
dices with  which  a  living  controversialist  cannot  fail  to 
be  regarded,  must  of  course  be  allowed  to  subside,  before 
a  calm  judgment  can  be  formed  of  his  merits  as  a  dispu- 
tant,— or  in  general  as  a  writer.  But,  when  that  period 
shall  arrive,  I  doubt  not  that  his  laborious  productions, 
more  especially  his  masterly  reply  to  the  work  entitled, 
'  A  Refutation  of  Calvinism,'  will  be  admitted  to  rank 
amongst  the  soundest  theological  writings  of  our  age. 

"  In  these  and  other  labours  he  '  finished  his  course,^ 
For  his  attention  was  not  absorbed  in  his  writings.  He  was 
a  laborious  minister  in  every  function  of  that  sacred  call- 
ing, and  especially  in  the  more  retired  walks  of  it.  In 
the  pulpit  indeed  an  asthmatical  affection,  added  to  a 
strong  provincial  accent,  an  inattention  to  style  and  man- 
ner, and  prolixity,  rendered  his  discourses  less  attractive 
than  those  of  many  very  inferior  men  ;  though  even  here, 
such  were  the  richness  and  originality  of  his  matter,  such 


1^1.]  AND  HABITS.  537 

his  evident  acquaintance  with  scripture,  and  with  the 
human  heart,  and  such  the  skill  which  he  evinced  as  a 
Christian  moralist,  that  by  hearers  of  attentive  and  re- 
flecting minds  he  was  listened  to,  not  only  with  respect, 
but  with  delight.  But  in  visiting  the  sick,  in  resolving 
cases  of  conscience^  in  counselling  young  ministers,  in  as- 
sisting various  religious  and  benevolent  institutions,  his 
success  was  peculiarly  great.  Indeed,  if  his  exertions 
as  an  author  were  left  out  of  consideration,  his  other  la- 
bours for  forty-five  years  as  the  chaplain  of  a  hospital, 
as  a  parish  priest,  and  generally  as  a  member  of  society 
and  of  the  Christian  church,  would  place  him  on  a  level 
with  most  pious  clergymen,  however  zealous,  diligent,  or 
useful. 

^'  But  his  widest  and  most  important  field  of  useful- 
ness, and  that  which  I  have  reserved  for  the  last  topic  in 
the  consideration  of  his  public  character,  was  a  commen- 
tator on  the  Holy  Scriptures.     In  this  he  may  be  truly 
said  to  hdiV e  Jitiished  his  course ,  as  well  as  fought  a  good 
fight  and  kept  the  faith.     It  is  difficult  to  form  a  just 
estimate  of  a  work  on  which  such  an  author  laboured  for 
thirty-three  years.     It  entitles  him  of  itself  to  rank  at  the 
head  of  the  theologians  of  his  own  time,  as  at  once  the 
most  laborious  and  important  writer  of  the  day.     The 
capital  excellency  of  this  valuable  and  immense  under- 
taking perhaps  consists  in  the  following  more  closely  tlian 
any  other,  the  fair  and  adequate  meaning  of  every  part  of 
scripture,  without  regard  to  the  niceties  of  human  sys- 
tems :  it  is  in  every  sense  of  the  expression  a  scriptural 
comment.     It  has  likewise  a  further  and  a  strong  recom- 
mendation in  its  originality.     Every  part  of  it  is  thought 
out  by  the  author  for  himself,  not  borrowed  from  others. 
The  latter  editions  indeed  are  enriched  witli  brief  and  va- 
luable quotations  from  several  writers  of  credit— but  the 


538  CHARACTEK,        [ChAP.  XVll. 

substance  of  the  work  is  entirely  his  own.  It  is  not  a  com- 
pilation, it  is  an  original  production,  in  which  you  have 
the  deliberate  judgment  of  a  masculine  and  independent 
mind  on  all  the  parts  of  Holy  Scripture.  Every  student 
will  understand  the  value  of  such  a  work.  Further,  it  is 
the  comment  of  our  age,  presenting  many  of  the  last 
lights  which  history  casts  on  the  interpretation  of  pro- 
phecy, giving  several  of  the  remarks  which  sound  cri- 
ticism has  accumulated  from  the  different  branches  of 
sacred  literature,  obviating  the  chief  objections  which 
modern  annotators  have  advanced  against  some  of  the 
distinguishing  doctrines  of  the  gospel,  and  adapting  the 
instructions  of  scripture  to  the  peculiar  circumstances 
of  the  times  in  which  we  live.  I  may  observe  also 
that  the  faults  of  method  and  style  which  considerably 
detract  from  the  merit  of  some  of  his  other  writings, 
are  less  apparent  here,  where  he  had  only  to  follow 
the  order  of  thought  in  the  sacred  book  itself;  whilst 
all  his  powers  and  attainments  have  their  full  scope.  It 
was  the  very  undertaking  which  required,  less  than 
any  other,  the  q\ialifications  which  he  did  not  possess, 
and  demanded,  more  than  any  other,  those  in  which 
he  excelled.  It  required  matured  knowledge  of  scrip- 
ture, skill  as  a  textuary,  sterling  honesty,  a  finn  grasp 
of  truth,  unfeigned  submission  of  mind  to  every  part 
of  the  inspired  records,  a  holy  temper  of  heart,  unpa- 
ralleled diligence  and  perseverance  :  and  these  were  the 
very  characteristics  of  the  man.  -When  to  these  particu- 
lars it  is  added  that  he  lived  to  superintend  four  editions, 
each  enriched  with  much  new  and  important  matter,  and 
had  been  engaged  above  three  years  in  a  new  one,  in 
which  for  the  fifth  time  he  had  nearly  completed  a  most 
laborious  revision  of  the  whole  work,  we  must  at  least 
allow  the  extent  and  importance  of  the  authors  exertions. 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  539 

Accordingly  the  success  of  the  work  has  been  rapidly  and 
steadily  increasing  from  the  first,  not  only  in  our  own 
country,  but  wherever  the  English  language  is  known. 
It  will  soon  be  in  the  hands  of  most  careful  students  of  the 
holy  volume,  whether  in  the  first  instance,  they  agree 
with  the  author's  chief  sentiments  or  not.  Nor  is  the 
time  distant,  when,  the  passing  controversies  of  the  day 
having  been  forgotten,  this  prodigious  work  will  general- 
ly be  confessed  in  the  protestant  churches,  to  be  one  of 
the  most  sound  and  instructive  commentaries  produced 
in  our  own  or  any  other  age. 

"  To  these  more  public  labours,  I  proceed  to  add  the 
characteristics  oi  his  private  life  as  a  Christian,  which  cor- 
responded to  them,  and  were  indeed,  under  the  divine 
blessing,  their  spring  and  source.  All  he  did  as  a  writer 
and  a  minister  proceeded  from  what  he  was  as  a  humble 
believer  »n  Jesus  Christ.  In  this  view  also,  he  fought 
a  good  fight,  finished  his  course,  and  kept  the  faith, 

"  Determination  of  mind  in  serving  God  formed  the 
basis  of  his  character,  and  gave  strength  and  firmness  to 
every  part  of  it.  Whatever  else  he  was,  he  was  most  de- 
cisive in  religion.  From  the  time  he  began  in  earnest 
to  investigate  the  doctrines  of  the  Bible  for  himself,  he 
not  only  admitted  them  as  true,  in  proportion  as  he  dis- 
covered them  to  be  such,  but  acted  upon  them,  govern- 
ed his  temper  and  conduct  by  them,  fearlesslv  professed 
them  before  men,  and  cheerfully  suffered  whatever  re- 
proach or  difficulties  they  might  occasion.  No  one  could 
ever  mistake  him.  He  always  avowed  what  he  consci- 
entiously  believed  to  be  true,  whatever  others,  even  his 
nearest  connexions,  might  think.  Timidity,  reserve, 
subterfuge,  concealment,  ambiguity,  love  of  the  world, 
were  not  his  faults.  The  manner  in  which  he  had  slow- 
ly and  reluctantly  arrived  at  truth  at  first,  gave  him  such 


540  CHARACTER^  [ChAP.  XVII. 

an  assured  confidence  that  he  was  right,  that  nothing  af- 
terwards could  turn  him  aside.  The  fashionable  opinions 
or  practices  of  the  day,  the  number  or  station  of  his  op- 
ponents, the  distractions  and  divisions  of  parties,  the  plau- 
sible appearance  of  certain  errors,  the  reputation  for 
piety  or  talent  of  those  who  incautiously  favoured  them, 
made  no  difference  to  him.  A  pow'erful  discriminating 
judgment,  and  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  every  part 
of  scripture,  gave  such  a  tone  of  firmness  to  his  habits  of 
thinking  and  acting,  that  he  seemed  like  a  giant,  taking 
his  course  among  children^  regardless  of  their  puny  oppo- 
sition, and  bent  only  on  the  achievement  of  his  own  great 
objects.  It  must,  on  the  other  hand,  be  owned  that  he 
sometimes  erred  by  want  of  sufficient  consideration  for 
the  feelings  and  prejudices  of  others,  and  sometimes  was 
betrayed  into  rudeness  and  over-confidence — I  wish  not 
to  conceal  his  human  failings — but  these  failings  he  con- 
stantly opposed,  and  as  he  advanced  in  life  almost  entirely 
subdued  ;  whilst  the  sterling  honesty  and  determination 
of  his  character,  the  spring  of  all  his  usefulness,  remained 
unimpaired. 

'^  Extraordinary  diligence  was  the  handmaid  to  this 
capital  excellency.  He  was  always  at  work,  always  busy, 
always  redeeming  time  ;  yet  never  in  a  hurry.  His  heart 
Was  given  up  to  his  pursuits  ;  he  was  naturally  of  a  stu- 
dious turn  ;  and  his  labour  was  his  delight.  He  gradu- 
ally acquired  in  a  degree  beyond  most  men,  the  habit  of 
abstracting  his  mind  from  sensible  objects,  and  of  concen- 
trating his  thoughts  on  a  particular  topic  ;  nor  could  the 
distractions  inseparable  from  a  hurried  journey,  or  from 
a  walk  through  the  busy  scenes  of  a  great  city,  at  all  di- 
vert him  on  such  occasions  from  the  course  of  thought  in 
which  he  was  engaged.  And  whenever  a  subject  which 
he  had  once  studied,  was  proposed  to  him,  he  could  im^ 


1821. J  AND  HABITS.  541 

mediately  fix  his  mind  intently  upon  it,  and  recall  all  the 
chief  arguments  by  which  it  was  supported.    So  that  he 
lived,  in  fact,  twice  the  time  that  most  other  students  do 
in  the  same  number  of  years.  To  support  this  he  had  an 
iron- strength  of  constitution.     And  for  five  or  six  and 
forty  years  he  studied  eight  or  ten  hours  a  day,  and  fre- 
quently twelve  or  fourteen,  except  when  interrupted  by 
sickness.     His  very  relaxations  were  often  equal  to  the 
diligence  of  others.     But  it  was  not  merely  incessant  la- 
bour which  distinguished  this  remarkable  man — it  was 
incessant  labour  directed  to  important  objects.     His  at- 
tention was  always  occupied  by  his  proper  work.  He  was 
not  merely  studious,  but  studious  of  what  was  immediately 
useful.  He  was  not  a  desultory  reader  attracted  by  every 
novelty,  and  wasting  his  time  on  infei^or  topics  or  authors 
of  less  moment ;  but  a  reader  of  what  was  solid  and  ap- 
propriate and  directly  subservient  to  the  great  subject  in 
hand.     From  an  early  age,  indeed,  he  was  almost  entirely 
self-taught ;  the  only  education  he  received  having  been 
at  a  grammer-school,  from  the  age  of  ten  to  fifteen.    He 
had  no  aid  afterwards  from  masters,  small  means  for  the 
purchase  of  books,  and  scarcely  any  access  to  great  col- 
lections.    A  few  first  rate  works  formed  his  library,  and 
these  he  thoroughly  mastered.     He  never  remitted  his 
exertions  in  improving  his  works.     After  thirty-three 
years  bestowed  on  his  Comment,  he  was  as  assiduous  in 
revising,  as  he  had  originally  been  in  composing  it.  The 
marginal  references  cost  him  seven  years  of  labour.    And 
the  interval  between  the  fourth  and  the  present  edition 
was  employed  in  attempting  a  Concordance  on  a  new  plan 
which  he  did  not  live  to  complete,  but  which  by  keeping 
in  exercise  that  minute  acquaintance  with  Scripture  and 
that  aptitude  of  reference,  for  which  he  was  distinguished, 
must  have  materially  assisted  him  in  his  last  revision. 


542  CHAKACTEK,  [ChAP.  XVII* 

'^  In  his  (lompstic  circle  Ins  character  was  most  exem- 
plary.    No  blot  ever  stained  hisfiame.   A  disinterested- 
ness and  unbending  integrity  in  the  midst  of  many  diffi- 
culties so  raised  him  in  the  esteem  of  all  who  knew  him, 
as  greatly  to  honour  and  recommend  the  gospel  he  pro- 
fessed.      He  was  in  all  respects  an  excellent  father  of  a 
family.  What  he  appeared  in  his  preaching  and  writings, 
that  he  was  amongst  his  children  and  servants.     He  did 
not  neglect  his  private  duties  on  the  ground  of  public  en- 
gagements ;  but  he  carried  his  religion  into  his  house, 
and  placed  before  his  family  the  doctrines  he  taught,  em- 
bodied in  his  own  evident  uprightness  of  conduct.    This 
determination  and  consistency  in  personal  religion  in- 
structed his  children  better  than  a  thousand  set  lessons. 
It  is  indeed  commonly  found  that  the  general  behaviour 
and  conversation  of  parents  produce  a  decidely  deeper 
impression  on  the  minds  of  the  young  than  any  formal 
instructions,    however  in  themselves  excellent.     When 
children  are  addressed  directly,  their  minds  recoil,  or  at 
least  their  attention  is  apt  to  flag ;  but  their  own  shrewd 
observations  on  what  they  see  done  or  hear  said  by  others, 
on  the  estimates  which  they  perceive  their  parents  to  form 
of  things  and  characters,  and    on  the  governing  princi- 
ples by  which  they  judge  their  conduct  to  be  regulated, 
sink  deep  into  their  memories,  and  in  fact  constitute  by 
far  the  most  effective  part  of  education.     It  was  on  this 
principle  that  our  deceased  friend  acted.     He  did  not 
inculcate  certain  doctrines  merely,  or  talk  against  covet- 
ousness  and  the  love  of  the  world,  or  insist  on  the  pub- 
lic duties  of  the  sabbath,  or  the  private  ones  of  the  fam- 
ily, whilst  the  bent  of  his  conversation  was  worldly,  his 
tempers  selfish,  his  habits  indulgent,  and  his  vanity  or 
ambition  manifest  under  the  thin  guise  of  religious  phra- 
seology :  but  he  exhibited  to  his  household  a  holy  and  a- 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  543 

iamble  pattern  of  true  piety — he  was  a  man  of  God — ^im- 
perfect indeed,  but  consistent  and  sincere.  Accordingly, 
all  his  children  became,  by  the  divine  mercy,  his  comfort 
during  life,  and  now  remain  to  call  him  blessed,  and  hand 
down  his  example  to  another  generation. 

A  spirit  of  prayer  and  devotion  was,  further,  a  con* 
spicuous  ornament  of  his  character.     He  lived  near  to 
God,^     Intercessory  prayer  was  his  delight.     He  was 
accustomed  in  his  family- devotions  to  intercede  earnestly 
for  the  whole  church,  for  the  government  of  his  country, 
for  the  ministers  of  religion,  for  those  preparing  for  the 
sacred  office,  for  schools  and  universities,  for  the  different 
nations  of  Christendom,  for  the  heathen  and  Jews,  and 
for  all  religious  institutions  ;  varying  his  supplications  as 
circumstances  seemed  to. dictate.    As  he  approached  the 
close  of  life,  his  deep  humility  of  mind,  and  his  zeal  for 
the  glory  of  his  Saviour,  were  very  affecting  and  edify- 
ing to  those  who  were  present  on  these  occasions.     He 
was  the  aged  saint  filled  with  the  love  of  God  and  man, 
and  supplicating  for  the  whole  human  race.     More  es- 
pecially, he  had  for  above  twenty  years  been  constantly 
imploring  of  God  that  he  would  open  some  way  for  the 
conversion  of  the  world,   as  well  as  the  more  extensive 
diffusion  of  genuine  Christianity  at  home,  before  he  saw 
any  apparent  means  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  desires ; 
and,  when  the  establishment  of  the  Bible  and  Missionary 
institutions  seemed  to  afford  a  prospect  of  the  consumma- 
tion which  he  had  so  fervently  desired,  his  thanksgivings 
to  God  abounded.     His  studious  and  secluded  life  by  no 
means  produced  any  indifference  as  to  the  active  schemes 
which  were  formed  for  the  salvation  of  mankind,  nor  any 
undue  or  unreasonable  fastidiousness  as  to  the  means  em* 

*  Psalm  cxlviii.  14. 


644  CHARACTER,  [ClIAP.  XVII. 

ployed — faults  often  connected  with  literary  habits — but 
whenever  the  end  of  religious  societies  was  good,  and  the 
methods  they  employed  lawful,  he  prayed  most  earnestly 
for  their  prosperity,  and  blessed  God  for  their  success  ; 
though  perhaps  in  the  details  of  their  constitution  or  pro- 
ceedings there  might  be  some  things  which  he  could  not 
full}  approve.  Thus  were  his  firmness  and  energy  sof- 
tened by  candour  and  enlarged  benvolence. 

Hh  faith  and  patience  un del"  afflictions   must  not  be 
omitted.     Though  his  constitution  in  itself  was  robust, 
his  health  was  far  from  being  good.   An  obstinate  asthma 
with  exhausting  bilious  attacks  exposed  him  at  times  to 
acute  sufferings  for  more  than  forty  years  of  his  life.  In- 
fiamatory  fever  succeeded  these  diseases  during  the  last 
seven  years,  aggravated  by  a  malady  most  inconvenient 
and  alarming.     He  had  moreover,  as  those  who  know  his 
private  history  are  well  aware,  painful  mortifications  and 
vexations  to  endure  whilst  he  resided  ^it  Olney,   and  still 
more  severe  ones  during  a  large  part  of  the  seventeen 
years  which  he  spent  in  London.     His  great  work,  the 
Commentary,  was  also  the  occasion  of  almost  constant  per- 
plexity, embarrassment,  and  disappointment   for  nearly 
the    whole  of  the  first  fourteen  years  of   his  labours 
upon  it ;  so  that  almost  any  other  person  would  havere- 
lincpiished  the  undertaking  in  despair.       To  these  must 
be  added  a  frequent  recurrence  of  severe  domestic  trials 
and  calamities,  often  increased  by  dejection  of  spirits. 
Yet  his  faith  and  patience  bore  up  under  all.  Those  who 
observed  him  in  scenes  of  peculiar  difficulty,  were  often 
reminded  of  the  words  of  the  royal  preacher,  the  spirit 
of  a  man  tui  If  sustain  his  i7ifirmity.^     This  seemed  to 
be  the  brief  history  of  his  life.     Perhaps   few  writers, 

'^  Prov.  xviii.  14. 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  545 

who  ultimately  attained  the  esteem  and  influence  of  this 
remarkable  man  for  the  last  twenty  years  of  his  labours, 
ever  reached  such  an  eminence  through  greater  discou- 
ragements of  almost  every  discription.  During  the 
twenty  five  years  preceding  that  period^  he  had  experi- 
enced inconveniences  and  difficulties  in  a  degree  that  can 
scarcely  be  imagined  by  any  but  his  intimate  friends. 

"  I  close  this  review  of  his  character  by  noticing  the 
gradual  but  regular  advances  ivhich  he  made  in  every 
branch  of  real  godliness,  aud  especially  in  overcoming 
his  constitutional  failings .     This  is,  after  all,  the    best 
test  of  Christian  sincerity.     A  man  may  profess  almost 
any  principles  or  hold  any  kind  of  conduct  for  a  time  ; 
but  to  continue  a   self-denying  course  of  consistent  and 
growing  piety,  to  apply  the  strict  rule  of  the  divine  law 
honestly  and  unreservedly  to  the  whole  of  our  conduct, 
to  cultivate  carefully  every  branch  of  our  duty,  to  resist 
and  contend  against  the  evil  tempers  and  dispositions  to 
which  we  are  naturallv  most  prone — and  to  unite  all  this 
with  humble  trust  in  the  merits  of  our  Saviour,  and  vvith 
unfeigned   ascription  of   every   thing  good  in  us  to  His 
grace  and  mercy  ;  this  it  is  that  marks  a  real  renovation 
of  heart,  and  stamps  the  genuine  believer  in  the  gospel 
of  Christ.     And  such  was  the  individual   whoin  we  are 
considering.       His  failings,  as  I  have  already  intimated, 
lay  on  the  side  of  roughness  and  severity  of   temper, 
pride  of  intellect,  and   confidence  in  his  own    i>owers. 
But  from  the  time  when  he  first  '^oeyed  with  his   wliole 
heart  the  truth  of  the  gospeh  ne  set  himself  to  struggle 
against  these  and  all  other  ^vil  tendencies,  to  study  sell- 
controU  to  aim  at  those  graces  which  are  most  diiiicult  to 
nature,  and  to  employ  all  the  motives  of  the  gospel  to  as- 
sist  him  in  the  contest ;  and  he  gradually  so  increased  in 
habitual  mildness,  humility,  and  tenderness  for  others,  as 

3Z 


546  CftARACTER,  [ChAP.   XVll. 

to  become  no  less  exemplary  for  these  virtues,  than  he 
had  long  been  for  the  opposite  qualities  of  religious  cou- 
rage, firmness,  and  determination.  He  used  to  observe, 
that  it  was  no  excuse  for  a  man  to  allege,  that  this  or  that 
holy  temper  was  not  his  turn  ;  for  every  grace  ought  to 
be,  and  must  be,  the  turn  of  every  sincere  Christian.  I 
can  most  truly  say,  that  d,. ring  an  acquaintance  of  about 
twenty-five  years,  which  gradually  matured,  on  my  part, 
into  a  filial  affection,  I  scarcely  ever  saw  an  instance  of 
more  evident  growth  in  real  obedience,  real  love  to  God 
and  man,  real  victory  over  natural  infirmities,  in  a  word, 
real  Christian  holiness.  In  the  concluding  years  of  his 
life,  he  was,  as  it  appeared  to  me,  obviously  ripening  for 
heaven.  He  had  fought  a  good  fight,  he  had  finished 
his  coiii'se^  he  had  kept  the  faith  ;  so  that  at  last  his  gen- 
uine humility  before  God,  his  joy  in  Christ  Jesus,  his  holy 
zeal  for  the  difl'usion  of  the  gospel,  his  tender  aflfection  to 
his  family  and  all  around  him,  his  resignation  to  the  will 
of  his  heavenly  Father,  and  his  exclusive  trust  in  the 
merits  and  grace  of  his  Saviour,  seemed  to  leave  little 
more  to  be  done,  but  for  the  stroke  of  death  to  bring  him 
to  his  grave  in  a  full  age,  like  as  a  shock  of  corn  cometh 
in  its  season  P^ 

To  this  vig(^rous  and  animated  delineation,  I  shall  now 
add  a  few  particuV^rs  from  my  own  observation  and  re- 
flection. 

What  was  the  class  ^f  intellectual  endowments,  that 
distinguished  my  revered  father,  must  be  obvious  to  all 
who  are  acquainted  with  his  works.  Acuteness,  com- 
prehension, close  reasoning,  judgRient, — these  are  every 
where  apparent.  In  that  imagination,  which  might  have 
enlivened  and  adorned  his  preaching  and  writings,  he 
was  no  doubt  deficient.     Nor  did   he  advance  preten- 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  547 

sions  to  that  boldness  and  novelty  of  conception,  which 
bestows  the  title  of  genius.  Yet  his  train  of  thinking 
was  always  marked  by  that  degree,  at  least,  of  originali- 
ty which  made  it  fairly  his  own,  and  rendered  it  interest- 
ing to  all  who  were  cempetent  to  appreciate  it,  and  to 
compare  it  with  what  was  current  among  other  writers 
upon  similar  subjects.  His  style  was  grave  and  unadorn- 
ed, but  manly,  and  in  general  clear  and  vigorous  ;  often 
conveying  forcible  sentiments  in  a  concise  and  striking 
manner  :  and,  as  has  been  intimated  in  a  letter  inserted 
in  this  work,  he  was  studious  to  exclude  those  peculiari- 
ties of  language,  which  have  frequently  given  needless 
disgust  in  religions  writings  ;  though  he  could  never  con- 
sent to  scruple  the  use  of  scriptural  phraseology. — The 
admirable  Henry  Martyn  has  made  the  following  re- 
mark in  his  journal,  April  26,  1807  :  "  Began  Scott's 
Essays,  and  was  surprised  indeed  at  the  originality  and 
rigour  of  the  sentiments  and  language.'' 

Smnd  judgment  was,  equally  with  vigour  and  decision^ 
the  characteristic  of  his  mind.     It  discovers  itself  in  his 
early  days,  and  it  grew  in  him  to  the  last ;  and  gave,  un- 
der the  diving  guidance  and  teaching,  which  he  so  con- 
stantly supplicated,  that  steadiness  and  consistency  to  his 
character,  conduct,  and  writings,  which  Mr.  Wilson  has 
celebrated.     The  unprejudiced  observer  will,  I  think, 
admit  it  to  be  very  striking  to  consid-r,  at  what  sound 
and  sober  views  of  scriptural  theology  he  so  early  arrived; 
such  that  he  never  saw  reason  ^^fterwards  to  alter  them 
in  any  point  worthv  of  notice.     And  this  did  not  arise 
from  his  embracing  in  totto  me  system  of  any  set  of  men  : 
he  escaped  the  errors  of  tnose  whom  he  joined,  as  well 
as  renounced  those  of  the  class  which  he  had  left.  Thus, 
while  acknowledgias  in  the  Force  ofTr,.th  his  obliga- 
tions to  the  writings  of  the  excellent  Mr.  Hervey,  he  still 


.■)48  CHARACTER,  [ClIAP.  XVII. 

avows  his  disagreement  with  him  upon  some  points :  and 
late  in  life  he  says  concerning  one  for  whom  he  enter- 
tained a  great  esteem,  "  I  always  thought  his  writings  on 
the  point  of  religious  experience  narcotic  to  those  ivithin, 
and  calculated  to  excite  prejudices,  and  give  plausibility 
to  those  ivithout/^  No  :  it  was  the  exercise  of  a  sound, 
vet  humble  mind,  in  the  intense  mediation  of  God's  tes- 
tivwnies,  which  thus  made  him,  in  some  points,  wiser 
than  his  teachers. 

At  the  close  of  twenty  years,  he  prefixed  to  the  fifth 
edition  of  his  Force  of  Truth  a  solemn  declaration,  which 
lie  renewed  in  every  subsequent  edition  till  his  death, 
that  "  every  thing  he  had  experienced,  observed,  heard, 
and  read,  since  the  first  publication  of  the  work,  had 
concurred  in  establishing  his  most  assured  confidence,  that 
the  doctrines  recommended  in  it  were  the  grand  and  dis- 
tinguishing peculiarities  of  genuine  Christianity."  Of 
the  importance  of  such  a  declaration  we  may  judge  from 
the  following  anecdote.  "  When  the  Force  of  Truth  first 
came  into  my  hands,''  said  an  excellent  and  learned  per- 
son, "  at  a  time  when  I  did  not  at  all  concur  in  its  doc- 
trines, the  first  thing  which  it  occurred  to  me  to  ask  was, 
^  What  has  been  the  subsequent  history  of  this  man?  He 
tells  us  of  one  great  change  :  he  may  have  made  many 
more  since.'  Receiving  a  satisfactory  answer  to  this  in- 
quiry, I  was  prepared  to  pay  a  more  serious  attention  to 
his  arguments." 

His  great  judgment  also  appeared  in  his  so  studiously 
contemplating  the  difi^ere^n  bearings  of  his  sentiments, 
and  the  limitations  necessary  to  be  put  upon  what  he  ad- 
vanced, with  a  view  to  preclude  objections,  that,  while 
no  one  would  ever  charge  him  wii\i  temporizing,  he  never 
drew  forth  an  avowed  opponent,  except,  I  think,  in  one 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  549 

instance,  which  neither  deserved  nor  obtained  the  least 
pubhc  attention. 

The  preceding  remarks  relate  to  the  powers  of  his  un- 
derstanding :  those  which  follow  pertain  more  to  the  tem- 
per of  his  heart. 

Mr.  Wilson  has  observed,  that  "  love  of  the  world  was 
not  his  fault ;''  that  "  disinterestedness  was  a  feature  of 
his  character;''  that  he  did  not  ^^talk  against    covet- 
ness  and  the  love  of  the  world,  while  the  bent  of  his  con- 
versation was  worldly,   and  his  tempers  selfish."     This 
is  most  true  :  but  it  is  not  all  that  deserves  to  be  said  upon 
the  subject.     I  must  give  it  as  my  deliberate  judgment, 
which  I  think  will  be  sanctioned  by  the  suffrages  of  those 
who  most  closely  observed  him,  that,  of  all  the  men  I 
have  known,  he  manifested  the  most  unfeigned  and  prac- 
tical belief  of  those    numerous   scriptures,    which    pro- 
nounce riches  dangerous  to  the  welfare  and  salvation  of 
the  soul ;  and  that,  in  consequence,  acting  upon  his  own 
favourite  maxim,  that  what  is  best  for  the  soul  is  really 
best  for  us,  he  ever  looked  upon  worldly  possessions  with 
a  jealous  eye,  for  his  family  as  well  as  for  himself.     Par- 
ticularly he  deprecated  the   idea  of  clergymen  aspiring 
at  wealth — meaning  by  that  term  much  more  moderate 
property  than  some  would  understand  by  it.     His  sen- 
tence at  the  beginning  of  his  religious  career  will  not  be 
forgotten  :  "  We  are  to  live  at  the  altar  ;  but  a  living, 
a  bare  decent  maintenance,  without  any  avaricious  or  am- 
bitious views  of  advancing  ourselves  or  our  families,  or 
hankering  after  indulgences,  should  content  us."*     He 
acted  on  this  principle   through  life.     Subsequently  we 
have  heard  him  declare,  that  "  if  a  man  have  faith  strong 
enough^  and  urgent  occasions  call  for  it,  he  may  perhaps 

*  Letter  of  July  13,  1775. 


550  CHARACTER,        [ChAP.  XVII. 

do  as  well  for  his  family  if  he  expends  what  he  has  to 
spare  in  judicious  charities,  as  if  he  lays  it  hy  ;"  and 
again  that,  ^'  in  some  cases,  he  should  think  it  right  to 
make  a  point  of  disposing  in  charity  of  at  least  as  much 
as  was  laid  by — and  this,"  he  adds,  ''  I  call  seed-corn.^'^ 
Yet  it  should  be  observed,  that  he  had  a  great  objection, 
where  it  could  be  avoided,  to  public  collections  being 
made  for  a  clergyman's  family  after  his  decease.  The 
necessity  for  this,  he  thought,  should  be  guarded  against 
by  all  fair  means.  Nor  should  it  be  supposed,  that  he 
in  any  way  reflected  upon  clergymen  who  were  born  to 
wealth,  or  on  whom  providence  otherwise  conferred  it,  if 
only  they  made  a  proper  use  of  it.  Aspiinng  after  it 
was  what  he  condemned. 

Agreeably  to  these  sentiments,  we  have  seen  him  ex- 
pressing a  strong  disapprobation  of  ministers  encumbering 
themselves  with  lucrative  acadamies,  and  losing  perhaps 
the  sacred  character  in  that  of  tutors.  He  had,  if  possi- 
ble, a  still  stronger  aversion  to  their  aiming  at  rich  mar- 
riages. A  marriage  with  a  rich  wife  is.  I  believe,  what 
none  of  his  sons  would  have  ventured  to  propose  to  him. 
Few  things  would  have  alarmed  him  more  for  their  safe- 
ty ;  or  more  grieved  him,  as  a  dereliction  of  the  princi- 
ples with  which  he  had  laboured  to  inspire  them.  Often 
have  we  heard  him  descant  with  satisfaction  on  the  case, 
I  think,  of  Mr.  Walker,  of  Truro,  who  declined  a  con- 
nexion with  a  lady,  in  all  other  respects  suitable,  because 
she  possessed  10,000/. !  and  often  mentioned  the  sarcastic 
congratulation  offered  at  a  visitation  by  a  dignified  cler- 
gyman to  an  evangelical  brother  who  had  married  a  lady 

of  fortune,  '^  Aye,  aye,  brother ,  we  all  aim  at  the 

same  object,  though  we  have  our  different  ways  of  attain- 

*  Letter  of  March  15,  1805. 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  351 

ing  it !"  Hence,  when  many  years  ago  two  young  ladies 
of  large  fortune  were  placed  under  his  care,  it  was  one 
of  his  counsels  to  them,  that  neither  of  them  should 
marry  a  clergyman:  "^for,"  said  he,  ^^  if  he  is  not  a 
good  one,  he  is  not  worthy  of  you  ;  and^  if  he  is  a  good 
one,  you  will  spoil  him." 

And  all  that  we  have  been  now  relating  was  held,  it 
ghould  be  observed,  and  persisted  in  by  one  who  had  felt 
more  than  most  men  the  inconveniences  arising  from  the 
want  of  money,  even  as  an  obstruction  to  his  great  and 
good  designs. 

All  this  must  appear  sufficiently  extraordinary  to  those 

who  form  their  notions  from  what  is  current  not  only  in 

the  world,  but  in  the  visible  church.    To  "  worldly-wise 

men"  it  will  no  doubt  even  seem  extravagant.     But  so 

did   our  Lord's  doctrine   upon   the  self-same  subject : 

"  The  Pharisees  also,  who  were  covetous,  heard  all  these 

things  ;  and  they  derided  him  :"  i^»iuvkt>,^,^o»,  they  snuffled 

at  him,  in  scorn  and  derision.     It  cannot  be  wondered 

at,  if  those  to  whom  the  rule  would  appear  extravagant, 

should  esteem  the  practice  which  is  conformable  to  it  to 

be  so :  and,  inverting  the  proposition,  it  may  be  feared 

that  those   who   so  judge  of  the  practice,   would  have 

judged  in  like  manner  of  the  rule,  had  it  not  proceeded 

from  an  authority  to  which  they  are  accustomed  to  defer. 

Let  it  not,  however,  be  supposed  that  while  I  vindicate, 

as  well  as  record  my  father's  sentiments,  I  pretend  to 

have  risen  to  the  level  of  them  myself.     To  describe,  and 

even  to  approve,  is  one  thing ;  to  follow,  passibus  aequis, 

is  another. 

But  is  was  not  only  under  the  form  of  the  love  of  moneij 
that  he  guarded  against  a  worldly  spirit :  he  was  equally 
jealous  of  it  in  every  shape.  The  reader  will  not  have 
forgotten  how  he  rejoiced  ivith  trembling  at  a  very  slight 


352  CliARACTEn,  [ClIAP.  XVII. 

degree  ol*  credit  obtained  by  one  of  bis  sons  at  tbe  univer- 
sity. To  tbe  same  son  lie  also  remarked,  that,  tbough 
be  did  not  tell  bim  so  at  tbe  time,  it  bad  been  one  object 
in  selecting  bis  college  to  send  bim  wbere  be  would  not 
be  likely  to  get  a  lellowsbip.  And,  tbougb  be  gave  or 
procured  for  all  bis  sons  an  university  education,  yet  so 
studiously  did  be  exclude  every  other  view  than  that  of 
their  going  forth  at  once,  like  himself,  as  humble  parish 
])riests,  that  I  believe  I  may  say,  they  entered  upon  life 
almost  without  having  conceived  the  idea  of  those  niore 
lucrative  and  more  envied  openings  which  an  university 
may  sometimes  present. 

It  may  not  be  improper  here  to  add,  that,  as  my  father 
wrote  only  for  usefidness,  and  neither  for  gain  nor  fame, 
be  always  puldisbed  bis  works  at  as  low  a  price  as  be 
could  at  all  afford  them,  that  they  might  be  accessible  to 
tbe  bumi)le  class  of  readers.  Repeatedly  indeed  this 
[)rice  turned  out  to  be  lower  than  he  could  afford.  Once,  in 
a  letter,  he  renjarks  concerning  his  Bible,  as  a  matter  of 
calculation,  ''  I  find  that  my  five  pound  book  would  make 

fifty  of 's  ten  shillings'    book  :''   yet  the   book  in 

nue.>iion  w^as  not  one  of  tbe  dearest  specimens  we  have 
seen.  Without,  however,  wishing  to  reduce  others  to 
bis  ov.  II  standard  in  this  respect,  be  certainly  felt  a  de- 
gr.^e  01  disgust  when  be  saw  tbe  desire  of  money-get- 
ting so  evidently  stamped  upon  religious  publications, 
calculated  for  general  instuction,  as  to  confine  their 
utility  to  those  who  could  pay  somewhat  extravagantly 
for  it. 

In  a  man  acting  upon  such  principles,  muchlibeivdity  in 
his  dealings,  and  an  ample  charity  in  proj)ortion  to  bis  cir- 
cumstances, would  naturally  be  expected  :  nor  would  the 
expectation  be  disappointed  by  the  fact.  Towards  ser- 
vants, labourers,  and  tbe  poor,  be  always  acted  in  the 


3821.]  AND  HABITS.  553 

most  kind  and  even  bountiful  manner.  He  expressed  his 
approbation  of  Mr.  Berridge's  advice,  who  said  to  coun- 
try clergymen,  "  Keep  a  barrel  of  ale  in  your  house,  and 
when  a  man  comes  to  you  with  a  message,  or  on  other 
business,  give  him  some  refreshment,  that  his  ears  may  be 
more  open  to  your  religious  instructions."  It  was  always 
likewise  his  maxim,  that  we  ought  to  support  during 
sickness,  or  when  worn  down  with  age,  those  of  whose 
services  we  had  the  benefit  during  their  health  and 
strength.  Hence  at  his  death  he  bequeathed,  out  of  the 
little  property  he  had  to  leave,  an  annuity  of  12/.  to  one 
who  had  spent  above  thirty  years  in  his  service  ;  though 
she  had  eventually  married  from  him. 

On  one  particular  mode  of  his  charities  (an  instance  of 
which  has  indeed  come  under  our  notice,)  we  may  again 
hear  the  lady,  to  whom  we  were  indebted  for  the  account 
of  his  Sunday  labours.  "  One  more  particular,"  she  says, 
^'  I  liave  to  note,  which  always  gave  me  pleasure,  as  prov- 
ing the  union  of  judgment  and  benevolence,  namely,  the 

cases  of ,  and ,  and  others.     Circumstauqes  not 

allowing  of  unassisted  pecuniary  relief,  your  good  father 
and  mother  received  into  their  house,  while  others  con- 
tributed to  their  support,  those  who  would  otherwise 
have  pined  in  solitude  and  neglect :  an  example  I  should 
like  to  see  imitated  in  the  habitations  of  many  pious  per- 
sons, as  a  means  of  doing  more  extensive  good,  than  many 
expensive  institutions.  And  it  can  scarcely  be  doubted, 
that  the  prayers  of  those,  so  favoured,  have  had  their  share 
in  drawing  down  the  blessings  which  have  descended  on 
the  family." 

But,  indeed,  in  all  his  pecuniary  transactions,  while  he 
guarded  against  profusion,  there  was  a  certain  ^^  lai'geness 
of  heart"*  about  him,  which  highly  adorned  his  profes- 

*    I  King^s  iv.  29. 

4A 


354  CIIAKACTER,  [ClIAP.  XVIL 

sion.  JVhat  is  that  heticirt  me  and  thee  P^  was  a  sen- 
tence frefnuiitly  in  his  mouth,  wherever  small  matters 
were  concerned.  And  in  this  connexion  the  testimony 
borne  soon  aft(  r  his  decease,  by  the  farmer  from  whom 
he  received  all  his  income  as  rector  of  Aston,  may  be 
quoted  as  of  much  weight  :  ^^  Never,"  said  he,  ''  was 
there  any  thing  mean,  little,  or  selfish,  about  Mr.  Scott.'' 

In  all  respects  he  was  a  man  of  a  remarkably  open  tem- 
per :  and,  though  this  might  occasionally  produce  him 
some  uneasiness,  he  always  thought  such  a  turn  of  mind, 
accompanied  by  a  tolerable  share  of  prudence,  carried  a 
person  through  more  difficulties  than  it  created  him. 

Another  particular  to  which  I  would  a  little  further 
advert  is,  his  close  adherence  to  the  scriptures  ;  his  con- 
stant recurrence  not  only  to  their  instructions,  for  the 
determination  of  important  questions  of  truth  and  duty, 
but  to  their  example,  as  the  best  standard  even  upon 
very  inferior  points.  Perhaps  the  more  insignificant  the 
instance  I  give,  the  more  effectually  may  it  illustrate 
what  I  state  concerning  the  extent  to  which  this  practice 
was  carried.  On  this  ground  I  mention  the  following. 
He  once  took  a  momentary  prejudice  against  a  writer's 
speaking  of  himscU'in  the  ]>lural  number,  rather  than  simply 
using  the  pronoun  /.*  and  I  was  somewhat  amused  to  find 
him  immediately  trying  his  sentiment  by  scriptural  usage.. 
^^  How,"  said  he,  ^*  do  the  inspired  writers  speak?" 
Their  sanction  of  the  practice  objected  to,  I  presume, 
satisfied  his  mind  ;  as  no  more  was  heard  of  the  objection; 
nor  is  it,  probably,  remembered  by  any  one  but  myself. 

Not  only  his  general  benevolence,  but  his  catholic  spi- 
rit towards  all  pious  Christians,  however  separated  from 
hi;n  in  unessential   things,    deserves  particularly  to  be 

>*  Gen.  xxiii.  15.     See  the  chapter  throughout. 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  55b 

commemorated.  This  was  manifested  in  the  fervency 
of  his  prayers  for  them ;  in  his  readiness,  wherever  he 
could  with  propriety  do  it,  to  second  their  efforts  to  do  good; 
in  his  cordial  joy  in  their  success,  and  sympathy  in  their 
disappointments  ;  and  in  the  habits  of  intimate  friend- 
ship, and,  as  we  have  seen,  of  confidential  correspond- 
ence, in  which  he  lived,  with  some,  from  whom  he  dif- 
fered on  points  which  he  did  not  think  unimportant.  He 
could  avow  his  sentiments,  and  allow  them  to  avow  theirs, 
where  they  disagreed,  and  yet  could  love  them  as  brethren, 
united  in  far  greater  things  than  those  which  divided  them. 
Accordingly  the  following  lines  were,  soon  after  his  death, 
applied  to  him,  in  print,  by  a  neighbouring  Baptist  min- 
ister, of  whom  he  had  not  scrupled  sometimes  to  com- 
plain,  as  making  injurious  inroads  upon  his  flock  : 

"  To  sect  or  party  his  large  soul 

Disdain'd  to  be  confined  ; 
The  good  he  loved  of  every  name, 

And  prayed  for  all  mankind." 

And  here  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  a  few  words  con- 
cerning his  Calvinism.  May  I  not  be  bold  to  appeal  to 
great  numbers,  whether  they  must  not  admit  the  subject 
of  these  memoirs  to  have  been  a  very  different  character, 
as  to  morals,  temper,  the  practical  nature  of  his  views  of 
Christianity,  concern  for  the  salvation  of  all  mankind,  and 
his  whole  manner  oi  addressing  men,  in  order  to  the  pro- 
motion of  their  salvation,  from  what  they  are  ready  to 
suppose  a  decided  Calvinist  must  be  ?  Where  will  they 
find  greater  benevolence,  greater  strictness,  and  greater 
exertion,  than  have  been  here  exhibited  to  them  ?  Will 
they  admit  the  fact,  but  contend  that  all  this  was  a  happy 
inconsistency  with  the  principles  which  my  lather  had 
embraced  ?  He  himself,  at  least,  steadily  maintained  the 


356  CHARACTER,  [ClIAP.  XVII. 

contrary,  and  afTirnicdthat  liis  principles  naturally  ten- 
ded to  a  much  higher  dei^ree  of  universal  goodness,  thau 
he  could  ever  give  himself  credit  for  having  attained  : 
and  it  is  certain,  that  all  his  more  distinguished  brethren, 
who  shared  with  him  the  reproach  of  Calvinism,  such  as 
Newton,  Henry  Venn,  Robinson,  Cecil,  Milner,  Richard- 
son, and  many  others — concurred  in  this  conviction  of  the 
practical  tendency  of  their  doctrines, — which  they  all 
likewise  exemplified,  in  their  own  lives  and  conversation, 
in  a  manner  not  likely  to  be  soon  surpassed. — To  what 
end  then  do  I  direct  these  observations?  to  the  promo- 
tion of  Calvanism  properly  so  called  ?  No  :  but  to  evince 
that  Calvinists  are  not  necessarily  so  far  removed  from  all 
that  is  Christian,  as  some  persons  seem  ready  to  suppose 
they  must  be. 

For  myself,  I  confess  that  I  am  little  disposed  eagerly 
to  contend  for  any  peculiarities  of  Calvin's  creed  :  but  of 
one  thing  I  feel  perfectly  sure,  that  the  sentiments  of 
antipathy,  involving  apparently  a  mixture  of  aversion 
and  contempt,*  vvhich  are  sometimes  expressed  for  per- 
sons holding  Calvinistic  sentiments,  can  only  reflect  dis- 
grace on  those  who  cherish  them. — Many  speak  and 
write  as  if  the  admission  of  such  doctrines  were  the  re- 
sult of  predilection,  and  arose  from  some  malignity  to- 
wards the  great  mass  of  mankind,  inherent  in  the  breast. 
Those  who  embrace  them  stand,  by  the  very  fact  of  hav- 
ing received  them,  (like  the  primitive  Christians,)  odio 
humani  generis  convicti.  But  nothing  can  be  a  great- 
er violation  of  all  justice  than  thus  to  treat  men,  who 
shew  the  greatest  benevolence  and  practical  charity  to- 
wards their  fellow  creatures  ;  who,  many  of  them,  (like 
the  subject  of  this  work,)  long  stood  out  against  the  ad- 
mission of  the  obnoxious  tenets  in  question,  and  never 
admitted  them  till  compelled  to  do  so,  contrary  to  all  their 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  557 

apparent  interests,  by  submission  to  what  they  at  least 
conceived  to  be  the  paramount  authority  of  God's  word  ;' 
and  who  themselves  have  often  felt  more  keenly,  it  is  to 
be  apprehended,  than  those  who  most  bitterly  censure 
them  ever  did,  the  painful  reflections  which  some  of 
their  principles  appear  calculated  to  excite. — But  the 
fact  is,  many  of  the  best  and  greatest  men  of  our  own 
church,  and  of  other  establishments,  through  successive 
ages,  have  avowed  the  doctrines  which  are  now  made 
the  ground  of  so  much  reproach;  and  could  many  ilhis- 
trious  worthies,  who  in  former  times  filled  the  highest 
dignities  of  our  church  w^ith  the  greatest  honour,  now 
return  upon  earth,  they  must,  according  to  certain  mo- 
dern regulations,  (hitherto  indeed  but  partially  adopted,) 
be  rejected  even  from  the  humblest  curacies ! 

But  I  forbear — and,  quitting  the  general  subject  of 
my  father's  character,  proceed  to  mention  some  of  the 
habits  of  his  life. 

It  may  be  interesting  to  some  persons  to  know  his 
usual  mode  of  spending  his  time,  when  exposed  to  no  pe- 
culiar interruptions. 

Unlike  most  men  who  have  accomplished  great  things 
in  life,  he  was  never,  till  quite  his  latt^^r  years,  an  early 
riser.  This,  indeed,  might  be  sufficiently  accounted  for, 
by  the  disturbed  nights  which  he  often  passed,  owing  to 
his  asthmatic  complaint.  He  usually  rose  about  seven, 
and  retired  to  rest  about  eleven  o'clock.  But  during 
some  late  years  he  rose  frequently  between  five  and  six. 
At  these  times  he  often  spent  three  hours  alone  in  his 
study  before  breakfast.  His  seasons  of  private  devotion 
were  always,  I  believe,  immediately  after  rising,  and 
again  from  eight  to  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening.  There 
were  times  also  in  which  he  had  periods  of  retirement 
in  the  middle  of  the  day  :  and  occasionally  he  observed 
days  of  fasting  and  more  special  devotion. 


558  CHAUACTLK.        [ChAP.  XVII. 

After  breakfast  followed  his  family  exposition  and 
worship,  which  often  occupied  three  quarters  of  an  hour, 
or  even  still  more  time.  He  next,  while  he  had  mission- 
aries or  other  pupils  under  his  care,  applied  himself  to 
their  instruction  :  and  then  pursued  his  own  studies  till 
near  the  hour  of  dinner.  His  time  for  exercise  and  for  ma- 
king his  pastoral  visits  was  generally  the  afternoon.  For 
some  years  his  chief  exercise  was  the  cultivation  of  his 
garden  ;  but  latterly,  from  the  necessity  of  a  recumbent 
posture,  m\ich  of  the  time  which  he  had  been  used  to  give 
to  this  employment  was  passed  upon  his  bed. — After  tea 
he  was  again  occupied  in  his  study  till  the  hour  for  family 
worship  arrived  :  after  which  a  light  supper,  followed 
by  a  little  conversation,  closed  the  day. 

He  was,  as  Mr.  Wilson  has  observed,  "  always  em- 
ployed, but  never  in  a  hurry."  His  method  of  '^  glean- 
ing,'' as  he  termed  it,  by  always  having  a  book  at  hand 
for  sj)are  ])ortions  of  time,  he  himself  has  described  and 
recommended  in  a  letter  which  has  been  inserted.  But 
he  gleaned  by  conversation  with  all  who  came  in  his  way, 
upon  such  subjects  as  they  understood,  as  well  as  from 
books.  He  thought  it  of  much  advantage  to  a  clergy- 
man to  understand  common  affairs,  particularly  those  con- 
nected with  the  employments  of  his  people.  "  When 
they  saw  that  he  understood  things  belonging  to  their 
profession,  it  would  make  them,''  he  said,  **  give  him 
credit  for  more  competency  to  instruct  them  in  what 
pertained  to  his  own.'' — Indeed  his  active  mind  employ- 
ed itself  vigorouously  upon  all  subjects  which  came  be- 
fore it  ;  and  particularly  upon  the  passing  events  of  the 
world,  as  they  affected  the  interests  of  the  Christian 
church,  or  of  his  country,  and  the  consequent  duties  of 
himself  and  his  people. 

Till  his  spirits  had  been  completely  worn  down  by  la- 


1821. J  AND  HABITS.  559 

hours  and  infirmities,  he  possessed  great  cheerfulness  and 
vivacity ;  which  especially  displayed  themselves  in  times 
of  sickness. — He  was  a  man  of  much  conversation.  All 
his  studies  and  pursuits  were  talked  over  with  his  fami- 
ly. He  was  indeed  always  and  every  where  iaaaruo^f 
''  apt  to  teach  :*  we  might  even  be  ready  to  term  him, 
as  St.  Paul  was  termed,  o-^r.^^oAo^of,  f  if  that  word  may  be 
taken,  as  our  version  appears  to  take  it,  for  one  who  scat- 
ters his  words,  like  seed,  all  around  him.  In  confirmation 
of  this  the  scenes  of  the  Margate  packets  may  be  recalled 
to  my  mind.  I  will  mention  also  another  incident  which  re- 
called, though  it  may  appear  trivial,  will  illustrate  my  po- 
sition, and  his  character. — In  one  of  my  journeys  to  Aston, 
I  took  with  me,  as  nurse-maid,  a  young  woman  of  but 
slender  capacity,  though  I  hope  of  good  principles;  audit 
amused  and  interested  me  to  learn  that  this  poor  girl, 
when  charged  with  the  care  of  a  young  child,  could  find 
no  way  of  passing  her  time  so  agreeably,  as  in  standing  or 
walking  about  near  m'y  father,  while  he  worked  in  his  gar- 
den. He  so  explained  to  her  his  various  operations,  and  the 
intended  result  of  them,  with  appropriate  observations, 
that  her  attention  was  quite  engaged.  And  by  means 
resembling  this  it  was,  that  his  domestics  gradually  ac- 
quired a  degree  of  information,  which  made  them  appear 
enlightened  persons  in  comparison  with  what  is  generally 
found  in  that  rank  of  life.  And  hence  too  it  was,  as  well 
as  for  the  great  spiritual  benefit  which  most  of  them  de- 
rived from  his  instructions,  that,  without  contracting  any 
disrespectful  familiarity,  they  became  attached  to  him  in 
a  very  uncommon  degree. 

In  this  connexion  I  may  mention  what  has  left  a  plea- 
sing and  aff'ecting  impression  upon  my  memory  from  my 

*  1  Tim.  iii.  2.     5  Tim.  ii.  24.  t  Acts  xvii.  18. 


.H)0  CHAUACTEK^  [ChAP.  XVII. 

early  days.  His  returns  from  visiting  his  late  flock  at  Ra- 
vcnstone,  when  he  lived  atOlney,  were  always  interesting 
occasions,  while  he  talked  over  with  my  mother  all  that 
he  had  observed  in  their  state.  At  these  times,  I  sup- 
pose from  sympathy  with  his  hopes  and  fears,  his  jovsand 
sorrows  respecting  them,  it  was  very  gratifying  to  me  to 
stand  by,  a  silent  listener  to  the  conversation. 

In  like  manner  tlie  peculiar  piety,  cheerfulness,  and 
affection  which  marked  the  discourse  that  took  place  on 
a  Sunday  evening,  (notwithstanding  the  very  discourag- 
ing circumstances  against  which  my  father  so  often  had 
to  contend,)  early  made  a  strong  impression  upon  my 
mind  of  the  Jiappiness  of  true  religion. 

Generally  I  may  say,  that  my  father  was  very  strict 
ahout  the  observance  of  the  sabbath  in  his  family.  All 
domestic  work,  that  could  be  anticipated,  was  done 
th''  evening  before  :  and  cooking  on  the  Sunday  was 
avoided,  that  the  whole  family,  if  not  otherwise  prevented, 
might  attend  public  worship.  Yet,  as  may  be  collected 
from  the  fact  just  related,  his  piety  was  cheerful  as  well 
as  strict. 

"  Improv'd  and  soften'd  by  the  day, 
All  thing-s  another  aspect  wore." 

In  one  respect  a  deficiency  may  have  been  felt  in  these 
memoirs — my  father  never,  I  believe,  at  least  never  since 
a  very  early  period,  wrote  any  private  papers,  relative 
to  what  passed  in  his  own  mind.  Pious  persons  have 
differed  in  judgment  upon  this  practice.  His  judgment 
was  not  against  it :  but  it  was  not  his  habit.  Nor  has  he 
left  any  writings  beyond  what  are  now  printed,  which 
can  be  communicated  to  the  public — unless  it  be  addi- 
tional letters  in  the  hands  of  Ins  friends. — At  the  same 
time  that  I  make  this  remark.  I  may  be  permitted  toob- 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  561 

serve  that  he  much  deprecated  the  publication  of  sucli 
letters,  unless  (what  he  apprehended  might  not  be  attain- 
able,) they  could  be  previously  submitted  to  persons  in 
whose  judgment  he  could  confide.  He  thought  that  the 
memory  of  many  good  men  had  been  injured  by  such  pub- 
lications.*— I  confess  it  is  with  some  trepidation,  as  to 
what  might  have  been  his  own  judgment  upon  the  sub- 
ject, that  I  now  lay  so  much  of  his  private  correspondence 
before  the  public  :  but  all,  I  persuade  myself,  will  feel 
that  I  have  given  them  much  that  is  truly  valuable  :  and, 
under  the  sanction  and  authority  which  death  has  added 
to  his  character,  he  may  now  speak  some  things  publicly, 
which  perhaps  propriety  or  expediency  required  that  he 
should  before  say  only  in  private  to  his  friends.  If  I  have 
in  any  important  instance  exceeded  that  moderate  licence 
which  this  consideaation  would  allow,  there  is  nothing  for 
which  I  should  feel  more  unfeigned  regret. 


I  gladly  avail  myself  of  the  permission  to  annex,  to 
this  review  of  my  honoured  father's  character  an  manner, 
of  life,  the  testimony  of  two  friends,  the  competency  of 
whose  judgment  none  will  call  in  question,  and  who  will 
be  free  from  that  suspicion  of  undue  partiality  which  much 
necessarily  attach  to  myself. 

The  first  of  the  following  letters  was  addressed  to  me 
when  I  announced  the  event  which  had  just  taken  place 
at  Aston  Sandford. 

'^  Golden  Square,  April  20,  1821 .  My  dear  s,r,  The 
mournful  event,  which  you  were  pleased  to  communicate 
to  me,  excited  less  surprise  than  concern,  as  Mr.  VVeb- 

*  See  his  Practical  Observations  on  Deut.  xxxiy. 

4  B 


563  CHARACTER,  [GhAP.   XVIL 

ster  had  prepared  nie  to  expect  an  unfavourable  termi- 
nation of  your  pious  and  excellent  fathers  illness.  Al- 
though his  departure  has  been  delayed  to  a  good  old  age, 
and  he  was  cut  down  as  a  shock  of  corn  fully  ripe  ;  yet 
the  loss  of  him  must  be  painfully  felt  by  all  who  had  the 
advantage  of  knowing  him,  and  who  knew  how  to  esteem 
and  love  him  for  his  work's  sake.  The  church  is  de- 
prived of  an  able  and  useful  minister,  who  has  long  been 
a  burning  and  a  shining  light  in  the  midst  of  her :  his 
people  have  lost  a  faithful  and  laborious  pastor,  whose 
zeal,  diligence,  and  serious  concern  for  their  eternal  in- 
terests, will  never  be  surpassed  :  his  friends  have  lost  a 
wise,  upright,  disinterested,  and  affectionate  counsellor, 
on  whose  judgment  and  integrity  they  could  always  rely : 
and  his  family  have  lost  all  that  can  be  comprised  in  a 
great,  good,  kind,  and  tender  relative.  His  works  will 
long  live  to  praise  him  here,  and,  through  the  divine 
blessing,  may  be  instrumental  in  adding  to  his  felicity, 
and  increasing  the  glory  with  which  the  Redeemer  has 
already  crowned  his  aged  and  laborious  servant. 

''  You,  my  dear  sir,  can  better  exemplify,  than  I  can 
express,  the  duties  of  faith,  and  patience,  and  meek  sub- 
mission, which  are  required  by  tljis  afllictive  dispensation 
of  the  divine  providence.  May  it  please  God  to  commu- 
nicate that  support  and  consolation,  which  will  enable  you 
to  comfoi't  those  around  you  !  Above  all,  may  you  have 
grace  to  persevere  in  the  path  by  which  your  now  bless- 
ed father  has  ascended  into  the  mansions  of  perfection 
and  happiness,  and  abundantly  supply  the  loss  which  the 
world  has  sustained,  by  receiving  a  double  portion  of  his 
spirit  !  .  .     • 

''  The  friends  of  my  youth,  and  of  my  mature  age,  are 
now  few  in  number  ;  and  every  year  deprives  me  of  some 
to  whom  1  was  tenderly  united.     Their  departure  warns 


1821.]  AND  HABITS. 


563 


me  that  my  own  is  advancing  rapidly  upon  me.  Pray 
for  me^  my  dear  sir,  that  /may  obtain  mercy  of  the  Lord 
in  that  day. — I  am,  my  dear  sir,  with  great  respect  and 
regard,  truly  and  affectionately  yours, 

John  Pearson.'* 
^'  The  Rev,  John  Scott,  Aston  Sanford.^^ 

The  other  excellent  and  distinguished  friend  of  my  fa- 
ther, when  I  informed  him  of  the  work  in  which  I  was  en- 
gaged, most  kindly  proposed,  of  his  own  accord,  '^  pub- 
licly to  declare  the  unfeigned  respect  he  felt  for  him,'^ 
which,  he  said,  he  should  have  "  real  pleasure  in  doing :'' 
and,  when  the  occasion  called  for  it,  he  favoured  me  with 
the  following  highly  gratifying  letter : 

*'^  Harden  Park,  16th  April,  1822. — My  dear  sir,  It 
was  with  no  little  pleasure  that  I  heard  that  you  were 
about  to  publish  an  account  of  the  life  of  your  late  excel- 
lent father,  together  with  many  of  his  letters.  The  life 
of  a  minister  of  the  gospel  is  not  indeed  likely  to  abound 
in  those  incidents  which  might  render  it  interesting  to 
ordinary  readers ;  but  to  those  who  read  for  moral  im- 
provement, or  still  more,  with  a  view  to  Christian  edifi- 
cation,  the  life  of  your  late  father  cannot  but  be  eminent- 
ly attractive.  The  labours  of  his  pen,  blessed  be  God, 
have  been  so  widely  circulated  as  entirely  to  supersede 
the  necessity  of  any  other  testimony  to  the  superiority  of 
his  intellectual  powers,  or  to  the  soundness  and  extent  of 
his  religious  wisdom.  To  the  still  higher  praise  of  hav- 
ing exhibited  and  illustrated  in  his  life  and  conversation 
the  religious  principles  which  he  professed,  you  would 
yourself  bear  abundant  testimony.  But  the  eulogium  of 
a  son  may  be  not  unreasonably  suspected  of  partiality  : 
from  that  suspicion  my  favourable  testimony  will  be  free. 
It  is  not  much  however  that  I  am  able  to  state  :  not  at 


564  CHARACTER,  [Chap.  XVIL 

least  so  niiicli  as  the  general  impression  on  my  mind  of 
your  f^Uher's  character  had  led  me  to  anticipate.  The 
uniform  discharge  of  the  most  important  duties,  the 
daily  exercise  of  the  Christian  tempers,  though  they  just- 
ly secure  respect  and  engage  aflection,  supply,  even  to  a 
biographer,  little  that  is  substantive  or  specific  :  yet  for 
the  gratification  of  my  own  feelings,  if  not  for  the  illus- 
tration, still  less  for  the  accrediting,  of  his  character,  per- 
mit me  to  state  the  decisive  judgpient  of  his  intellectual 
and  moral  qualities,  which  an  acquaintance  of  five  and 
thirty  years'  duration  had  enabled  me  to  form. 

*'  It  was  in  the  winter  of  1785-6  that  the  late  Mr. 
Newton  informed  me  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  Scott,  a  clergy- 
man of  a  very  superior  understanding  and  of  eminent 
piety,  more  peculiarly  remarkable  for  his  thorough  ac- 
quaintance with  the  holy  scriptures,  was  about  to  settle 
in  London,  having  been  appointed  to  the  chaplaincy  of 
the  Lock  Hospital. 

"  This  was  a  period  of  my  life  when  it  was  peculiarly 
important  to  me  habitually  to  attend  the  ministrations  of 
a  sound  and  faithful  pastor  ;  and  I  willingly  assented  to 
Mr.  Newton's  earnest  recommendations  of  Mr.  Scott. 
I  soon  found  that  he  fully  equalled  the  strongest  expec- 
tations that  1  had  formed  of  him,  and  from  that  time  for 
many  years  I  attended  him  regularly,  for  the  most  part 
accompanied  by  my  dear  friends, — both  alas  !  now  gone 
to  a  better  world, — the  Hon.  Edward  James  Eliot  and 
Mr.  Henry  Thornton.  We  used  to  hear  him  at  the 
Lock  in  the  morning  ;  Mr.  Thornton  and  1  often  gladly 
following  him  for  the  afternoon  service  into  the  city, 
where  he  had  the  lectureship  of  Bread  Street  church. 
All  objections  arising  from  an  unfavourable  manner  were 
at  once  overruled  by  the  strong  sense,  the  extensive  ac- 
quaintance with  scripture,  the  accurate  knowledge  of  the 


1821.]  AND  HABITS.  565 

human  heart,  and  the  vehement  and  powerful  appeals  to 
the  conscience,  with  which  all  his  sermons  abounded  in  a 
greater  degree  than  those  of  any  other  minister  I  ever 
attended.  Indeed  the  substantial  solidity  of  his  discourses 
made  those  of  ordinary  clergymen,  though  good  and 
able  men,  appear  comparatively  somewhat  superficial  and 
defective  in  matter.  His  zeal,  together  with  his  labours 
and  indefatigable  energy,  could  not  but  be  manifest  to 
all  who  had  ever  so  little  knowledge  of  his  life  and  cha- 
racter. But,  through  the  medium  of  a  friend  who  re- 
sided some  time  under  his  roof,  I  had  an  opportunity  of 
becoming  acquainted  with  his  conduct,  temper,  and  man- 
ners, in  family  and  life.  These  I  can  truly  declare  were  such 
as  to  indicate  his  constant  reference  both  in  his  conduct 
and  temper,  to  the  very  highest  moral  standard,  and  a 
mind  singularly  vvatchful  against  what  he  conceived  to 
be  his  own  besetting  infirmities.  In  particular  I  well  re- 
member it  was  stated  to  me,  that,  if  in  the  course  of  the 
day  he  had  been  betrayed  into  what  he  deemed  an  im- 
proper degree  of  warmth,  with  a  measure  of  humility 
rarely  to  be  found  in  any  man,  much  less  in  one  who 
could  not  but  be  conscious  of  his  own  superior  powers, 
he  would  mention  the  circumstance,  and  implore  forgive- 
ness of  his  infirmity  in  the  evening  devotions  of  the  fa- 
mily.   ; 

''  Were  I  required  to  specify  the  particular  Christian 
principles  which  shone  most  conspicuously  in  his  charac- 
ter, I  should  mention  his  simplicity  of  intention,  his  dis- 
interestedness, and  his  generous  contempt  of  this  world's 
wealth  in  comparison  with  those  heavenly  treasures  on 
which  his  heart  was  supremely  set.  He  conceived  it  to 
be  peculiarly  the  duty  of  a  Christian  minister  to  be  a  pat- 
tern of  disinterestedness,  and  to  render  it  clear  that  he 
was  governed  by  higher  motives  than  those  of  worldly 


566  CHARACTER,  &C.      [ChAP.  XVII. 

gaii)  or  advancement. — It  may  be  an  illustration  of  this 
part  of  his  character,  that,  in  opening  his  heart  to  a 
friend  on  the  mai-riage  of  one  of  his  children,  he  express- 
ed his  gratification  that  the  lady  had  no  fortune. — Never 
Indeed  did  I  know  any  one  in  whom  the  grand  governing 
principles  of  a  true  Christian  appeared  to  rule  more  pow- 
erfully and  habitually. 

^'  It  was  with  no  little  regret  that  a  change  of  residence, 
which  took  place  on  my  marriage,  rendered  me  a  less 
constant  attendant  on  Mr.  Scott's  ministry.  But  Mrs. 
W.  and  I  always  congratulated  ourselves  when  an  oppor- 
tunity of  hearing  him  occurred.  When  your  father  quit- 
ted the  neighbourhood  of  London,  I  was  one  of  the  many 
who  deeply  regretted  his  departure,  though  my  concern 
was  lessened  by  the  hope  that  a  country  residence  might 
prove  serviceable  to  his  health,  and  be  the  means  of  pro- 
longing a  life  of  almost  unequalled  usefulness.  I  need  not 
assure  you  that,  the  esteem  and  attachment  I  felt  for  him 
experiencing  no  diminution,  I  continued  to  take  a  deep 
interest  in  his  well  being  ;  and  though  I  heard  with  con- 
cern that  one,  for  whom  I  felt  so  sincere  a  friendship,  • 
sliould  suffer  such  a  long  continuance  of  severe  bodily  pain, 
yet  I  could  not  but  feci  that  it  was  to  the  honour  of  this 
aged  servant  of  God,  that,  as  when  in  the  possession  of 
his  bodily  strength  he  had  been  abled  to  exhibit  a  model 
of  what  a  Christian  minister  should  be,  so  that  he  had 
done  it  no  less  in  his  declining  years,  by  the  patience  and 
humility  with  which  he  bore  his  bodily  sufferings,  and 
the  diligence  with  which  he  never  failed  to  improve  every 
remaining  bodily  and  mental  faculty  for  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  edification  of  his  fellow-creatures. 

''  Large  indeed  was  the  harvest  he  was  allowed  to  gather 
in  :  many  are  the  works  which  have  followed  him  ;  and 
rich,  doubtless,  will  be  his  remuneration,  on  that  day  when 


1821.]  SENTIMENTS  ON  EDUCATION.  .567 

he  shall  hear  the  blessed  address  which  I  could  for  very, 
very  few,  anticipate  with  equal  confidence,  JVell  done 
good  and  faithful  servant,  enter  thou  into  the  joy 
^f  ^%  Lord  ! — I  remain,  with  real  esteem  and  regard, 
my  dear  sir,  your  faithful  servant, 

W.  WiLBERFOKCE." 

''  The  Rev,  John  Scott.'^ 


One  more  topic  remains  to  be  adverted  to  in  this  chap- 
ter, to  which  refference  has  been  already  made  :  it  is,  my 
father's  sentiments  concerning  education. 

On  this  subject  he  will  himself  have  disappointed  the 
hopes  of  many  readers,  by  the  closing  sentence  of  his  own 
narrative  ;  and  I  am  sensible  that  it  will  not  be  in  my 
power  to  relieve  the  disappointment.  At  the  same  time 
I  would  remind  such  persons  how  many  valuable  hints 
they  may  collect  from  various  letters  which  had  been  laid 
before  them  ;  and  likewise  how  great  weight  there  is  in 
the  sentence  referred  to,  when  interpreted  as  he  would 
understand  it.  '^The  grand  secret''  of  my  success,  he 
there  says,  '^  appears  to  have  been  this,  that  I  always 
sought,  for  my  children  as  well  as  for  myself,  in  the  first 
PLACE,  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness.^^  In 
his  view,  this  would  extend  not  only  to  the  instruction 
directly  given,  and  the  prayers  offered  on  behalf  uf  liis 
family,  but  to  his  whole  conduct  respecting  theni ;  to  tlie 
spirit  and  behaviour  habitually  exhibited  before  them  ; 
to  the  value  practically  and  evidently  set  upon  eternal, 
in  preference  to  temporal,  things ;  and  very  particularly 
to  the  disposal  of  them  in  life— the  places  of  instruction 
to  which  they  should  be  sent,  the  families  which  they  sliould 


.">68  SENTIMENTS  [ChAP.  XVII. 

visit,  the  connexions  which  they  should  form,  and  the 
openings  which  shoidd  he  enihraced  or  rejected  for  them. 
^^  Many  ofus.'^  says  Dr.  Paley,  ^*  are  brought  up  with 
this  world  set  before  us,  and  nothing  else.  Whatever 
promotes  tins  world's  prosperity  is  praised;  whatever 
hurts  and  ol>structs  and  prejudices  this  world's  prosperity 
is  bkuiicd  :  and  there  all  praise  and  censure  end.  We  see 
mankind  about  us  in  motion  and  action  ;  but  all  these  mo- 
tions and  actions  directed  to  worldly  objects.  We  hear 
their  conversation  ;  but  it  is  all  the  same  way.  And  this 
is  what  we  see  and  hear  from  the  first.  The  views  which 
are  continually  placed  before  our  eyes  regard  this  life 
alone  and  its  interests.  Can  it  then  be  wondered  at  that 
an  early  worldly- mindedness  is  bred  in  our  hearts,  so  strong 
as  to  shutout  heavenly-mindedness  entirely?"  AH  this 
strikingly  illustrates,  bt/  contrast,  what  my  father  meant 
in  the  above-quoted  sentence.  How  far  the  censure  which 
it  conveys  bears  upon  the  practice  of  many  families  in 
W'hich  religious  instruction  is  not  neglected,  those  con- 
cerned must  judge  for  themselves.  -^Itis  seriously  to 
be  apprehended,''  my  father  observes  in  one  of  his  last 
publications  relating  to  the  state  of  the  times,  "  that  re- 
missness in  family  religion,  relaxation  of  domestic  author- 
ity, and  the  adoption  of  worldly  maxims  in  the  educa- 
tion and  disposal  of  children,  constitute  a  considerable 
part  of  the  sins  of  the  church  in  the  present  day,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  the  sins  of  the  irreligious  part  of  the  na- 
tion."— Such  was  his  judgment.  What  was  his  practice, 
the  same  distinguished  writer  lately  cited  may  be  said  to 
have  described,  when  he  proceeds :  "  That  religion  there- 
fore may  not  be  quite  excluded  and  overborne,  may  not 
quite  sink  under  these  powerful  causes,  every  support 
ought  to  be  ^iv^en  to  it.  which  can  be  given  by  education, 
by  instruction,  and,  above  all,  by  the  example  of  those,  to 


3821.]  ON    EDUCATION. 


569 


whom  young  persons  look  up,  acting  with  a  view  to  a  fu- 
ture life  themselves."  Or  rather  his  conduct  is  more  ad- 
equately described  by  the  nervous  language  of  the  inspir- 
ed apostle  :  "  We  look  not  at  the  things  which  are  seen, 
but  at  the  the  things  which  are  not  seen  ;  for  the  things 
which  are  seen  are  temporal,  but  the  things  which  arc 
not  seen  are  eternal.'^* 

The  deficiencies,  of  which  my  father  speaks  in  the  same 
closing  sentence  of  his  narrative,  were  mainly  owing,  I 
conceive,  to  the  want  of  time  for  more  particular  instruc- 
tion and  superintendence,  which  was  inseparable  from  the 
constant  pressure  of  engagements  under  which  he  lived. 
But,  though  I  avow  my  despair  of  satisfying  the  ex- 
pectations of  some  friends  on  the  subject  of  the  present 
section,  I  have  one  document  to  lay  before  them,  which 
I  trust  they  will  accept  with  indulgence  and  read  with  in- 
terest. It  is  a  memorial  of  a  part  of  what  passed  at  As- 
ton, at  our  family  meeting  there,  before  mentioned,!  in 
the  year  1818,  as  preserved  in  a  letter  to  an  absent  brother. 
It  may  be  remembered,  that  one  object  then  proposed 
was,  that  our  revered  head  might  deliver  to  us,  perhaps 
for  the  last  time,  "  such  hints,  especially  on  the  manage- 
ment of  our  families,  as  should  occur  to  him,  and  as  might 
tend,  under  the  blessing  of  God,  to  make  us  in  some  de- 
gree such  blessings  to  our  children,  as,  we  trusted,  he  had 
been  to  us."  Of  these  hints  some  will  be  found  to  cor- 
respond to  each  part  of  the  sentence  which  introduced 
the  present  observations. — My  memorandu'n  is  as  follows  : 
"  My  father  then  took  up  the  subject  which  had  been 
proposed  to  him,  and  the  text  named  as  an  inti'oduction 
to  it.  Genesis  xviii.  9,  expressing  his  sense  of  its  vast  im- 
portance, and  that  particularly  as  applied  to  us,  in  our 

*2Cor.  iv.  18.  t  See  above,  p.  434. 

4C 


570  SENTIMENTS  [ChAP  XVII. 

sitiiMtioiis,  and  with  oiir  families.  I  can  give  you  but 
biitl'  hints  of  v\hat  he. said,  but  they  may  recall  to  your 
recollection  his  strain  of  thinking  and  speaking  on  such 
poisits. 

''He  first  used  the  most  humble  expressions  concern- 
ing his  sense  of  the  unsufficiency  and  imperfection  of  what 
he  had  done  himself :  that  people  asked  him  what  were 
the  rules,  and  schemes,  and  plans,  which  he  had  adopted 
and  pursued  ;  but  that  really  he  had  been  always  too  much 
involved  in  his  many  engagements,  to  pursue  any  very 
regular  scheme  or  system  in  the  education  of  his  children: 
and  he  ascribed  the  success,  which  he  hoped  had  attended 
him,  to  God's  blessing  on  steady  upright  aims  and  inten- 
tions, rather  than  to  the  wisdom  of  his  plans  and  the  com- 
petency of  his  rules. 

''  1.  One  thing  that  he  could  look  back  upon  with  sat- 
isfaction, and  which  he  would  earnestly  inculcate,  was, 
that  he  had  ever  decidedly  sought  itrst  the  kingdom  of 
God  and  his  righteousness  for  us,  as  well  as  for  himself; 
and  this  not  merely  in  his  prayers,  but  in  his  instructions, 
and  in  disposing  of  us  in  life.  He  had  been,  he  observed, 
most  of  his  time  p(>or  ;  and  in  London  he  could  have  found 
many  opportunities  of  getting  his  children  off  his  hands, 
and  even  of  putting  \\\q\w  forward  in  the  world ;  but  he 
determined  not  to  avail  himself  of  them,  but  rather  to 
keep  his  children  under  his  own  roof  as  long  as  he  could. 
For  his  sons  his  heart  had  been  set  upon  the  ministry, — 
perhaps  too  fondly  :  though,  as  we  knew,  it  had  always 
been  his  maxim,  that,  while  he  would  rather  see  us  faith- 
ful ministers  of  Christ  than  princes,  yet  he  would  rather 
we  were  shoe- blacks  than  clergymen  in  office  but  not  in 
heart :  and  he  had  been  unwilling  to  relinquish  the  hope 
that  we  should  answer  his  desires,  for  the  sake  of  any 
more  lucrative  prospect  tliat  was  presented. 


1821.]  ON  EDUCATION.  571 

^^  2.  He  would  enjoin,  Whatever  else  you  teach  or 
omit  to  teach  your  children,  fail  not  to  teach  them  sub^ 
jection  ;  and  that  to  the  mother,  as  well  as  to  the  father. 
This,  he  said,  is  as  essential  to  their  own  welfare,  tempo- 
ral and  eternal,  as  to  that  of  the  family,  the  church,  and 
the  state.  Establishing  authority,  (which  is  perfectly 
consistent  with  kindness  and  affection,)  so  that,  from 
childhood,  they  shall  not  think  of  deliberately  opposing 
a  parent's  will, — of  having  or  doing  what  he  disapproves : 
this  is  the  greatest  safe-guard  that  can  be  placed  about 
young  persons.  Subjection  to  authority  's  God's  ordi- 
nance— essential,  in  addition  to  all  other  considerations, 
to  the  belief  and  practise  of  religion.  If  it  were  true, 
that  there  were  more  pious  women  than  men,  he  would 
ascribe  it  very  much  to  this  circumstance,  that  they  are 
more  habituated  to  restraint  and  subjection. 

"  Here  I  took  the  liberty  of  bearing,  to  the  juvenile 
part  of  the  company,  my  testimony  to  the  great  value  and 
advantage  of  the  discipline  under  which,  particularly  in 
this  respect,  we  were  brought  up  ;  while  I  see,  among 
pupils,  and  in  many  religious  families,  the  prevalence, 
and  the  sad  consequences  of  an  opposite  practice.  There 
was  no  want  of  affection,  on  the  one  part,  or  of  confidence, 
on  the  other,  in  my  father's  family  :  but  thei'e  was  an 
awe  of  parental  authority  :  any  thing,  to  vyhich  he  could 
not  freely  consent,  was  out  of  the  question  with  us  :  at 
least  it  was  so  to  a  considerable  degree.  This  is  a  pre- 
servative from  a  thousand  sins  and  follies  and  miseries,  to 
which  those  young  persons  who  have  an  unsubdued  will 
of  their  own  are  exposed.  I  heartily  wish  we  may  all, 
by  God's  blessing^,  succeed  in  establishing  the  same  system 
in  our  families. 

"  3.   He  enforced,  as  of  great  importance,  the  forming 
of  habits  of  application.     The  idea  of  teaching  every 


572  SENTIMENTS  [ChAP.  XVII. 

tiling  as  piny  or  entertainment,  could  it  be  realized, 
would  sacrifice,  he  observed,  the  great  moral  benefits  of 
education.  The  difference  between  work  and  play  should 
be  felt  :  and  the  ])roportion  of  the  former  to  the  latter 
gradually  increased.  The  habit  of  application  is  of  vastly 
greater  importance  than  any  particular  branch  of  learning 
which  is  to  be  acquired  by  it. 

^^  I  will  here  subjoin  the  remark  of  a  wise  man,  Mr. 
Hichardson  of  York,  who  said,  ^  It  seemed  to  him,  that 
the  wide  difference  existing  among  families  brought  up 
under  the  same  religious  instruction,  was,  in  a  very  main 
degree,  to  be  traced  to  some  being  trained  to  i)idust?^ioiis 
habits,  and  some  not.' 

''  4.  To  such  of  us  as  have  pupils  from  wxalthy  fa- 
milies, it  might,  my  father  proceeded,  be  particularly 
important  to  point  out,  what  he  had  always  wished  to 
keep  in  our  view,  when  we  were  young,  that  our  child- 
ren were  not  to  consider  themselves  as  on  a  footing  with 
all,  with  whom  they  might  associate.  Many  things 
might  be  proper  for  their  companions,  in  the  way  of  dress, 
expence,  &c.  which  would  be  highly  improper  for  thoriy 
on  account  of  their  different  situation  and  prospects  in 
life.  This  he  observed,  was  ever  to  be  kept  in  view  by 
the  families  of  ministers  especially  :  and  children  should 
therefore  be  habituated  to  the  consideration  from  the 
first. 

"  Connected  with  this,  the  subject  of  accepting  invi- 
vitations  for  our  children,  to  pay  visits  to  friends,  deserv- 
ed much  attention,  and  sometimes  occasioned  much  dif- 
ficulty. Such  calls  should  be  complied  with  sparingly, 
and  with  much  care.  Even  where  the  families  to  which 
they  might  be  invited  were  unexceptionable  in  all  other 
points  than  that  of  superior  station  or  fortune,  yet  the 
difltrent  style  of  living  would  often  be  of  itself  a  sufii- 


1821.]  ON   EDUCATION.  573 

cient  objection,  where  the  youthful  mind  was  concerned. 
Wanting  to  be  genteel  frequently  proved  a  great  snare  to 
families  circumstanced  as  our's  were. 

"5.  On  the  subject  of  teaching  children  re //.^r/o/?,  he 
had  in  some  degree  altered  his  opinions.  He  had  done 
too  little,  he  was  convinced,  in  the  way  of  teaching  us  ca- 
techisms, prayers,  and  portions  of  scripture  by  heart ; 
not  only  from  the  want  of  time,  but  from  a  fear,  beyond 
what  was  warranted,  of  producing  formality  :  and  he  ap- 
prehended that  there  still  prevailed  an  error  on  this  head, 
among  many  persons,  agreeing  with  us  in  our  general 
sentiments.  Observation  of  facts  had  produced  the 
change  in  his  judgment.  He  had  lived  to  see,  to  how 
good  account  a  pretty  large  measure  of  such  instruction 
might  be  turned  ;  particularly  storing  the  mind  with  scrip- 
tures for  future  use.  He  would  have  the  memory,  while 
tenacious,  as  in  children,  preoccupied  with  such  matter  ; 
without,  however,  rendering  it  burdensome. 

"  He  had  not  attempted  a  great  deal  in  the  way  of 
talking  directly  to  children,  and  drawing  them  forth  to 
talk,  upon  religious  subjects  ;  but  much,  he  trusted,  by 
family  worship,  and  the  constant  reading  and  expounding 
of  the  scriptures  :  much  also,  he  hoped,  by  the  conversa- 
tion kept  up  in  his  family,  and  by  the  spirit  of  supreme 
regard  to  religion,  which  he  had  endeavoured  to  main- 
tain. This  he  pressed  upon  our  particular  attention 
with  reference  to  our  children. 

"  To  the  effect  of  his  general  conversation  I  gave  my 
testimony,  by  observing,  that  the  knowledge,  which  I 
had*found  turn  to  most  account  in  life,  appeared  to  have 
been  gathered  up,  gradually  and  imperceptibly,  from 
what  thus  passed  in  his  family. 

"  He  urged  the  improvement  of  passing  events,  of  oc- 
currences relating  to  our  own  conduct  and  that  of  others. 


;)74  SEMIMKNTS  [ChAP.  XVII. 

as  the  occasions  of  religious  remark,  illustrative  of  scrip- 
tural truths— teaching  young  persons  to  take  a  religious 
and  Christian  view  of  whatever  took  place. 

"  If  surrounded  by  a  young  family,  he  said,  his  expo- 
sitions would  be  somewhat  varied  from  their  present 
form  :  they  would  be  less  full  and  minute,  and,  as  far  as 
he  found  it  practicable,  more  suited  to  arrest  and  impress 
the  youthful  mind. — He  would  also  make  a  point  of  hav- 
ing evening  prayer  at  such  an  hour,  that  the  \ounger 
branches  of  the  family  (from  seven  or  eight  years  of  age,) 
might  be  present,  as  well  as  in  the  morning. — He  much 
recommended  extemporary  prayers  in  the  family,  glanc- 
ing at  existing  circumstances,  in  preference  to  any  fixed 
forms  ;  especially  among  young  persons. 

"  6.  He  pressed  the  importance  of  gaining  the  affec- 
tions of  our  children  ;  drawing  them  to  choose  our  compa- 
ny, to  enter  into  our  conversation,  and  to  make  us  their 
confidents. 

"  7.  He  expressed  his  hope,  that  there  might  be  lit- 
tle need  to  say  to  us.  Let  brotherly  love  continue ;  but^ 
said  he,  let  every  thing  be  done  to  train  up  your  children 
also  to  union  and  cordiality  :  let  them  be  guarded,  and 
taught  themselves  to  guard,  against  whatever  might  vio- 
late it.  There  will  be  different  turns  of  mind  :  there 
will  be  occasions  tending  to  excite  jealousy,  envy,  and 
grudging  :  but  let  the  demon  of  discord  be  watched 
against,  as  the  deadliest  foe  to  a  family.  Respectability, 
happiness,  usefulness,  all  depend  on  its  exclusion.  Jl 
tJirrefold  cord  is  not  easily  broken  ;  but  a  divided  house 
comet li  to  desolation. 

^^  My  father  concluded  with  prayer  for  all  present, 
and  for  all  those  belonging  to  us  who  were  absent  ;  for 
us  and  our  children  after  us,  and  our  children's  children, 
to  future  generations,  if  there  should  be  such  ;  that  reli- 


1821.]  ON  EDUCATION.  575 

gion  might  not  decline,  and  become  extinct  among  us, 
but  that  all  might  prove  (like  Abraham,  who  had  fur- 
nished our  text,)  blessed  ourselves,  and  blessings  to 
others. 

"  After  the  prayer,  I  took  his  opinion  on  the  subject 
of  introducing  young  persons  to  the  sacrament  of  the 
Lord's  supper ;  which  I  was  the  more  desirous  to  do, 
from  knowing  his  sentiment,  that  it  is  an  ordinance  for 
the  edification  of  believers,  not  for  the  conversion  of  sin- 
ners. I  observed,  that  I  trusted  we  had  seen  good 
effects  result,  in  many  instances,  from  encouraging  young 
persons  to  come,  who  appeared  hopeful  and  promising  ; 
who  shewed  feeling,  and  an  apparent  desire  of  religious 
improvement ;  though  we  could  not  arrive  at  a  decisive 
judgment  concerning  their  piety.  He  fully  acquiesced 
in  this,  and  expressed  his  approbation  of  inviting  the  at- 
tendance of  such  persons,  with  proper  explanations,  and 
when  it  meets  their  own  desire.  He  thought  it  often 
proved  a  deciding  event  with  them,  and  the  means  of 
fixing  them. — The  distinction  was  marked  between  such 
an  approach  to  the  Lord's  table,  and  persons  coming 
merely  because  they  have  attained  a  certain  age,  and 
have  been  confirmed :  as  likewise  between  coming  in 
order  to  establish  a  satisfaction  with  what  they  are,  and 
using  it  as  a  means  of  being  made  what  they  should  Z>e." 
fe  A  striking  amplification  of  some  parts  of  the  preceding 
paper  may  be  found  in  a  note  of  my  father's  on  a  passage 
in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  where  Demas,  who  ^Movfed 
this  present  world,"  is  introduced  with  the  epithet  gen- 
tlemanlike attached  to  his  name.  After  some  excellent 
remarks  on  the  effects  arising  from  the  affectation  of  gen 
tility  in  persons  in  trade,  he  thus  proceeds  :  •'  But  none 
are  in  this  respect  so  much  exposed  as  ministers  and  their 
families,  when,  having  no  private  fortune,  they  are  situa- 


576  SENTIMENTS  [ChAP.  XVII. 

ted  among  the  affluent  and  genteel :  and,  by  yielding  to 
the  temptation,  they  are  often  incapacitated  from  paying 
their  debts  with  punctuality  ;  they  are  induced  to  de- 
grade their  oflice  by  stooping  to  unsuitable  methods  of  ex- 
tricating themselves  out  of  difliculties,  from  which  strict 
fruj;ality  would  have  preserved  them,  and  by  laying 
themselves  under  obligations  to  such  men  as  are  capable 
of  abusing  tins  purchased  superiority  ;  and,  above  all, 
they  are  generally  led  to  place  their  children  in  situations 
and  connexions  highly  unfavourable  to  the  interests  of 
their  souls,  in  order  to  procure  them  a  genteel  provision. 
If  we  form  our  judgment  on  this  subject  from  the  holy 
scripture,  we  shall  not  think  of  finding  the  true  ministers 
of  Clirist  among  the  higher  classes  in  the  community,  in 
matters  of  external  appearance  or  indulgence.  That  in- 
formation and  learning,  which  many  of  them  have  the 
op])ortunity  of  acquiring,  may  render  them  acceptable 
company  to  the  aflluent,  especially  to  such  as  love  them 
for  their  work's  sake  ;  and  even  the  exercise  of  Christian 
tempers  will  improve  the  urbanity  acquired  by  a  liberal 
education,  where  faithfulness  is  not  concerned.  But  if  a 
minister  thinks,  that  the  attention  of  the  great  or  noble 
requires  him  to  copy  their  expensive  style  of  living,  he 
grievously  mistakes  the  matter.  For  this  will  generally 
forfeit  the  opinion  before  entertained  of  his  good  sense 
and  regard  to  propriety  :  and  his  official  declarations 
concerning  the  vanity  of  earthly  things,  and  the  Chris- 
tian's indifference  to  them,  will  be  suspected  of  insin- 
cerity, while  it  is  observed  that  he  conforms  to  the  world, 
as  ftir  or  even  further  than  his  circumstances  will  admit : 
and  thus  respect  will  often  be  changed  into  disgust. 
Nay  indeed  the  superior  orders  in  society  do  not  choose 
to  be  too  closely  copied,  in  those  things  which  they  deem 
their  exclusive  privileges  ;  especially  by  one  who  (they 


1821. J  ON  EDUCATION.  577 

must  think,)  secretly  depends  on  them  to  defray  the  ex- 
pence  of  the  intrusive  competition.  The  consistent 
minister  of  Christ  will  certainly  desire  to  avoid  every 
thing  mean  and  sordid,  and  to  retrench  in  every  otlier 
way  rather  than  exhihitthe  appearance  of  pernjpy  :  but, 
provided  he  and  his  family  can  maintain  a  decent  simpli- 
city, and  the  credit  of  punctuality  in  his  payments,  he 
will  not  think  of  aspiring  any  higher.  Il",  in  order  to 
do  this^  he  be  compelled  to  exercise  considerable  self- 
denial,  he  will  think  little  of  it,  while  he  looks  more  to 
Jesus  and  his  apostles  than  to  the  few  of  a  superior  rank 
who  profess  the  gospel  :  and,  could  he  afford  something 
genteel  and  fashionable,  he  would  deem  it  more  desira- 
hle  to  devote  a  larger  portion  to  pious  and  charitable 
uses,  than  to  squander  it  in  vain  affectation.'' 

In  addition  to  the  observations  here  detailed,  the 
reader  may  be  referred  for  a  further  explanation  of  my 
father's  views  on  education  to  the  twenty-iirst  of  his  Es- 
says, which  treats  of  the  relative  duties. 

On  the  subject  of  "  establishing  authority,"  (which 
was  to  be  accomplished  early,)  he  used  to  observe  that  it 
generally  cost  him  a  sharp  contest,  sometimes  more  tlian 
one  ;  but  that,  when  it  was  once  settled  who  was  master, 
the  parent  and  not  the  child,  the  path  was  ever  after  com- 
paratively smooth  and  easy. 

On  correction,  he  was  decided  as  to  its  propriety  and 
necessity,  as  the  appointment  of  God.  At  the  same  time 
he  thought  it  need  by  no  means  be  frequent,  if  it  were 
properly  administered.  He  would  not  have  it  applied 
for  small  faults:  for  what  resulted  from  cbiklisb  hxity 
and  inconsideration  ;  but  only  for  what  was  wilful,  rebel- 
lious, or  immoral.  "  A  child,"  he  observed,  '^  was  to  be 
punished,  not  for  being  a  child,  but  for  being  a  ivickcd 
child."     Of  course  he  taught  that  chastisement  was  to  be 

4D 


578  SENTIMENTS  [ChAP.  XVIL 

applied  coolly  and  with  deliberation,  to  fulfil  a  duty  pain- 
ful to  our  feelings,  not  for  their  gratification. 

It  was  a  rule  with  him,  that,  from  the  time  children 
became  capable  of  making  their  wants  known  in  any 
other  way,  they  were  to  obtain  nothing  by  crying  for  it, 
or  by  any  other  misconduct.  The  contrary  practice,  he 
said,  was  bribing  them  to  behave  ill. 

He  much  lamented  to  see  parents  so  often  inverting 
the  proper  course  to  be  pursued,  leaving  their  children 
almost  without  restraint  when  young,  and  then  attempt- 
ing to  impose  too  severe  restrictions  upon  them  when 
grown  up.  Each  error  was  highly  pernicious ;  the 
combination  of  the  two,  of  most  ruinous  consequence. 

A  lady  who  was  for  a  considerable  time  resident  in  his 
house,  and  who  has  very  successfully  brought  up  her 
family  by  rules  principally  derived  from  him,  mentions 
in  a  letter  two  circumstances  which  particularly  struck 
her  in  his  management:  one  was  his  ^^  never  resenting 
misconduct  in  any  way  when  the  contest  was  over.  I 
used  to  admire,'"'  she  says,  "  his  being  so  soon  kind  again 
to  the  oHendcr.  This  I  judge  to  be  important,  though 
it  may  seem  trivial."  The  other  was  "  his  plan  of  let- 
ting his  authority  go  by  imperceptible  degrees,  as  his 
children  grew  up.  In  this,"  she  remarks,  "  he  excelled, 
I  rm  ready  to  say,  even  his  management  in  childhood  : 
and  the  observation  of  many  unhappy  cases,  arising  from 
a  contrary  course,  has  convinced  me  of  its  great  impor- 
tance. He  would  have  been  a  wise  fiither,  even  had  he 
not  been  a  religious  one  ;  just  views  were  so  obvious  to 
his  wise  mind.  I  think  the  dissatisfaction,  which  you 
tell  me  he  expresses  in  the  close  of  his  narrative,  arose 
from  his  not  having  had  great  opportunity  of  comparing 
his  plan  with  those  of  others,  and  of  observing  how 
miserably  many  children  have  been  brought  up.     There 


1821.]  ON  EDUCATION.  579 

is  however  a  great  improvement,  at  least  in  my  circle 
I  take  the  opportunity  of  speaking  of  him  in  every  com- 
pany into  which  I  go,  when  there  is  a  young  mother 
present.^' 


580  uis  WORKS.  [Chap. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


HIS  WORKS HIS  THEOLOGY CONCLUSION. 

^^  The  characteristic  excellency  of  his  writings/^  Mr. 
Wilson  says,  ''  is  a  calm,  argumentative,  determined  tone 
of  scriptural  truth  ;  a  clear  separation  of  one  set  of  princi- 
ples from  another ;  a  detection  of  plausible  errors ;  an 
exhibition,  in  short,  of  a  sound,  comprehensive,  adequate 
view  of  Christianity  ;  such  as  goes  to  form  the  really  solid 
divine.  His  motto  may  he  conceived  to  have  been, 
K)imving  that  I  am  set  for  the  defence  of  the  gospel ^ 

I.  On  my  fiither  s  first  work,  the  Force  of  Truth,  and 
and  on  his  ])rincipal  work,  the  Commentary  on  the  Scrip- 
tures, Mr.  Wilson  has  spoken  with  sufficient  copiousness 
in  what  has  been  already  inserted  from  his  sermons. 

I  may  be  allowed  however  to  remark  it,  as  shewing  a 
very  different  state  of  feeling  upon  such  subjects  from  that 
whicii  now  exists,  that  a  narrative  so  striking  in  itself,  as 
the  Force  of  Truth  exhibits,  and  one  so  strongly  tending 
to  support  what,  amid  unceasing  obloquy  and  opposition, 
are  contended  for  as  the  great  doctrines  of  the  reforma- 
tion and  of  the  holy  scriptures,  should  for  a  long  time 
have  attracted  so  little  attention.  Ten  years,  it  has  been 
seen,  passed  before  a  thousand  copies  were  sold.  Yet* 
several  years  before  that  period  had  elapsed,  it  had  been 
tn  nslatcd  into  a  foreign  language  and  published  on  the 
continent. 


XVIII.]  HIS  WORKS.  581 

I  subjoin  a  well  known  instance  of  the  effect  of  the 
work  on  a  character  which  has  much  interested  the  pub- 
lic mind.     "  About  this  time  Mr.  Piggott,  the  curate  of 
St.  Mary's   Nottingham,    hearing  what  was  the  bent  of 
his  (Henry  Kirke  White's)  religious  opinions."  nam.  ly, 
'  inclining  towards  deism/  "  sent  him,  by  a  friend,  Scotrs 
Force  of  Truth,  and  requested  him  to  peruse  it  attentive- 
ly ;  which  he   promised  to  do.     Having  looked  at  the 
book,  he  told  the  person  who  brought  it  to  him,  that  he 
could  soon  write  an  answer  to  it ;    but  about  a  fortnight 
afterwards,   when  this  friend  inquired   how  far   he   had 
proceeded  in  his  answer  to  Mr.   Scott,  Henry's  reply 
was  in  a  very  different  tone  and  temper.     He  said,  that 
to  answer  that  book  was  out  of  his  power,  and  out  of  any 
man's,  for  it  was  founded  upon  eternal  truth  ;  that  it  had 
convinced  him  of  his  error ;  and  that  so  thoroughly  was 
he  impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  importance  of  his  Maker's 
favour,  that  he  would   willingly  give   up  all  acquisitions 
of  knowledge,  and  all  hopes  of  fame,  and  live  in  a  wilder- 
ness, unknown,  till  death,  so   he  could  insure  an  inheri- 
tence  in  heaven. — A  new  pursuit  thus  opened  to  him, 
and  he  engaged  in  it  with  his  wonted  ardour."* 

To  what  Mr.  Wilson  has  said  concerning  the  Commen- 
tary, I  would  annex  the  opinion  expressed  by  the  late 
Rev.  Andrew  Fuller — ^*  I  believe  it  exhibits  more  of  the 
mind  of  the  Spirit  in  the  scriptures,  than  any  other 
work  of  the  kind  extant  :"  and  the  following  testimony 
of  the  author  of  the  "  Introduction  to  the  Critical  Study 
and  Knowledge  of  the  Holy  Scriptures."  Having  quoted 
Mr.  Wilson's  account  of  the  work,  Mr.  Home  adds  : — 
"  To  the  preceding  just  character  of  this  elaborate  Com- 
mentary, the  writer  of  these  pages  (who  does  not  view  all 

*  Southey's  Life  and  Remains  of  H.  K.  White. 


dS2  his  wouks.  [Chap. 

topics  precisely  in  the  same  point  of  view  with  its  late  learn- 
ed author,)  deems  it  an  act  of  bare  justice  to  state,  that  he 
has  never  consulted  it  in  vain  on  difficult  passages  of 
the  scriptures.  While  occupied  in  considering  the  va- 
rious ohjections  of  modern  infidels,  he,  for  his  own  satis- 
faction, thoiiL^lit  out  every  answer  (if  he  may  be  allow- 
ed the  expression,)  for  himself,  referring  only  to  commen- 
taries in  (piestions  of  more  than  ordinary  difficulty  :  and  in 
every  instance, — especially  on  the  Pentateuch, — he  found 
in  Mr.  Scott^s  Commentary  brief  hut  solid  refutations 
of  alles^ed  contradictions^  which  he  could  find  in  no 
other  similar  work  extant  in  the  Ens^lish  language P 

The  only  observation  which  I  shall  myself  make  relates 
to  the  leading  principle  of  interpretation  adopted  in  the 
work,  which  appears  to  be  of  this  kind  :  that  every  pas- 
sage of  scripture  has  its  real,  literal,  and  distinct  meanings 
which  it  is  the  first  duty  of  a  commentator,  whether  from 
the  pulpit  or  the  press,  to  trace  out  and  explain ;  what- 
ever application  he  may  think  fit  subsequently  to  make 
it :  and  that,  speaking  of  the  scriptures  generally,  the 
spiritual  meaning,  is  no  other  than  this  real  meaning, 
the  actual  intention  of  the  passage,  with  its  fair  legitimate 
application  to  ourselves.  The  author  looked,  therefore, 
with  a  very  jealous  eye  upon  the  whole  scheme  o^  accom- 
modation so  much  in  favour  with  many  persons,  which 
takes  a  passage  often  without  even  a  reference  to  its  con- 
nexion and  real  purport,  and  applies  it  to  somewhat  to 
which  it  has  no  actual  relation,  and  perhaps  does  not 
even  bear  any  analogy. — A  few  extracts  from  my  father's 
writings  will  best  illustrate  his  views. 

In  the  preface  to  his  Commentary  he  briefly  notices 
the  subject,  in  explaining  the  plan  upon  which  his  own 
work  proceeds,  and  the  reasons  that  led  to  its  adoption. 
But  the  fullest  explanation  of  his  sentiments  is  to  be 


XVIII.]  HIS  WORKS.  583 

found  in  two  papers  in  his  collected  ''  Works/*'  The 
first  was  published  in  the  Theological  Miscellany,  for 
1786,  in  reply  to  a  query  concerning  the  passage,  Eccles. 
ix.  13 — 15,  which  describes  "di  certain  poor  man,  who. 
by  his  wisdom,  delivered  his  city/'  but  was  "  no  more 
remembered''  by  the  citizens.  Some  persons  have  had 
the  fancy  of  applying  this  to  our  redemption  by  Christ, 
and  our  returns  for  the  benefit.  On  this  he  says  :  "  In 
explaining  the  word  of  God,  we  should  remember  that 
there  is  in  every  portion  one  precise  meaning,  previously 
to  our  employing  our  ingenuity  upon  it,  which  it  is  our 
business,  with  reverent  attention  to  investigate.  To  dis- 
cover that  meaning,  we  should  soberly  and  carefully  exa- 
mine the  context,  and  consider  the  portion  in  question  in 
the  relation  in  w-hich  it  stands." 

Then,  having  pointed  out  the  useful  practical  lessons 
suggested  by  the  plain  meaning  of  the  story,  he  proceeds : 
^'  I  would  gladly  know  by  what  authority  any  man, 
overlooking  these  plain  useful  instructions,  by  the  help 
of  a  warm  imagination,  sets  himself  to  find  gospel  mys- 
teries in  this  passage  ?  ....  It  would  puzzle  the  most 
ingenious  of  these  fanciful  expositors  fairly  to  accommo- 
date the  circumstances  of  the  story  to  the  work  of  redemp- 
tion. Two  purposes  indeed,  such  as  they  are,  may  be 
answered  by  such  interpretation  :  1.  Loose  professors  are 
encouraged  in  their  vain  confidence,  by  hearing  thai 
none  of  the  redeemed  are  more  mindful  of,  or  thank- 
ful to  their  Saviour  than  themselves 2.  It  is  a 

powerful  engine  in  the  hands  of  vain-glorious  men,  by 
which  to  catch  the  attention,  and  excite  the  admiration 
of  injudicious  multitudes,  who  ignorantly  admire  the  sa- 
gacity of  the  man  that  finds  deep  mysteries,  where  their 

ore  sober  pastors  perceived  nothing  but  unrelishing 
practical  instruction I  have  heard  many  sensible 


384  HIS  WORKS.  [ClIAP. 

and  pious  persons  lament  this  sort  of  explication  of  scrip- 
ture, as  an  evil  of  tlie  fust  magnitude  :  and  I  am  more  and 
more  convinced  it  is  so.     At  this  rate  you  may  prove  any 

doctrine  from  any  text : every  thing  is  reduced 

to  uncertainty,  as  if  the  scripture  had  no  determinate 
mennifig.  till  one  wasarhitrarily  imposed  by  the  imagina- 
tion of  man  :  .  .  .  .  the  most  important  doctrines  of  the 
gospel  seem  to  lose  their  beauty  and  glory,  along  with 
their  simplicity,  in  the  midst  of  such  useless  encumbrance: 
and  the  most  conclusive  arguments  lose  their  effect,  and 
become  suspected,  by  the  company  which  they  keep  : 
and,  whilst  the  sophistical  proof  is  detected,  the  opposer 
is  emboldened  to  treat  the  rest  as  equally  capable  of  refu- 
tation  

^*  However  men  may  admire  the  sagacity  of  these  ex- 
positors, it  certainly  shews  a  very  lamentable  state  of  the 
organs  of  sight,  when  a  man  can  see  nothing  obvious^ 
useful,  real,  and  capable  of  being  pointed  out  to  others 
for  their  benefit ;  but,  blind  to  these  things,  sees  every 
thing  through  a  different  medium  than  others,  and  in 
such  a  manner  as  can  furnish  only  amusement  instead  of 
information.  It  is  very  improperly  called  spiritually  ex- 
plaining the  scripture.  The  spiritual  meaning,  is  the 
meaning  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  which  is  generally  simple, 
and  obvious  to  the  humble  inquirer.  Opposite  to  this  is 
the /(^mrz/w/ meaning,  which  always  appears  forced  and 
unnatural  to  sober  minds  ;  diverse  and  opposite  to  men 
of  oj)posite  parties  and  lively  imaginations  ;  and  only  ex- 

citisadmirationby  beingsurprisingand  unexpected 

Thus  the  parable  of  the  good  Samaritan  is  evidently  in- 
tended to  ex])lain  and  enforce  the  great  commandment  of 
loving  our  nj^ighbour  as  ourselves,  by  shewing,  in  a  lively 
example,  how  every  personal  and  party  consideration  is 
to  be  overlooked :  and  safetv,  ease,  interest,  and  indul- 


XVIIT.]  HIS  WORKS.  585 

gence  hazarded  or  renounced,  to  rescue  a  fellow  creature, 
though  an  enemy  or  stranger,  in  the  hour  of  distress. 
Christ  indeed,  having  in  his  life  and  death  perfectly  ful- 
filled this  law,  and  far  exceeded  all  that  can  possibly  be 
required  of  any  other  person,   because  of  his  peculiar 
character,  circumstances,  and  suretyship   engagements, 
hath  inexpressibly  outdone  the  good   Samaritan.     But 
even  this  is  accommodation  ;  and  the  practical  inference, 
Go  thou  and  do  likewise,  demands  our  peculiar  attention. 
But  now,  if  ingenuity  and  imagination  are  employed  to 
bend  every  circumstance  of  this  parable  to  the  situation  of 
fallen  man,  and  the  love  of  Christ ;  and  this  is  given  as 
the  primary  or  only  meaning,  whilst  the  practical  in- 
struction is  kept  back  ;  the  reader  or  hearer  may  be 
amused  or  disgusted,  as  he  favours  or  dislikes  the  doc- 
trines of  grace  5  but,  whatever  edification  he  may  receive, 
he  has  not  that  which  our  Lord  principally  intended  by 
the  parable." 

The  other  document  which  conveys  his  sentiments  on 
the  subject  before  us  is  a  letter  to  a  highly-esteemed 
brother  clergyman,  who  consulted  him  concerning  the 
publication  of  a  sermon  on  the  signs  and  duties  of  the 
times,  in  the  year  1799,  from  the  text,  Nahum  ii.  1.  He 
writes  as  follows : 

^^If  I  had  not  considered  you  in  a  very  different  light, 
from  that  in  which  I  do  some  preachers,  in  whose  ser- 
mons imagination  and  accommodation  predominate,  I 
should  have  evaded  the  question,  or  declined  giving  an 

answer Your  sermons  always  have  a  good  tendency  ; 

as  such,  I  must  give  my  approbation,  leaving  every  man 
to  his  own  method  of  attaining  his  object ;  though  1  may 
think  that  method  is  not  the  best  of  which  he  is  capa- 
ble  When  you  take  a  plain  text,  full  of  matter, 

and,  from  the  real  meaning  of  the  text,  raise  doctrines, 

4E 


586  Ills  woKKs.  [Chaf, 

draw  conclusions,  explain,  illustrate,  and  applv  the  sub- 
ject, there  is  great  weight  in  your  manner  of  preaching; 
which  the  fertility  ol'  your  invention  and  liveliness  of 
imagination,  kept  in  due  hounds,  render  more  interesting 
to  the  many^  without  giving  ju-^t  ground  of  umbrage  to 
the/6't(;.  But,  it  appears  to  me  and  to  others,  that  you 
frequently  choose  texts  suited  to  give  scope  to  the  fancy, 
— which  is  constituted  the  interpreter,  instead  of  the 
judgment ;  and  that  you  thus  discover  allusions,  and  de- 
duce doctrines  and  instructions,  true  and  good  in  them- 
selves, but  by  no  means  contained  in  the  text,  nor,  indeed, 
easily  made  out  in  the  way  of  accommodation.  In  this 
case,  your  own  vigour  is  principally  exerted  in  the  exer- 
cise of  the  imagination  :  and,  while  many  hearers  are 
surprised,  amused,  and  delighted,  their  understandings, 
consciences,  and  hearts  are  not  addressed  or  affected, 
by  any  means  in  so  powerful  a  manner  as  by  a  plainer 
subject. 

"  What  St.  Peter  says  of  prophecy,  that  it  is  not  of 
private  interpretation^  is  true  of  every  part  of  scripture  : 
the  Holy  Spirit  had,  in  every  part,  one  gi^nd  meaning, 
and  conveys  one  leading  instruction  ;  though  others  may, 
by  fair  inference,  subordinately  be  deduced.  This  is 
the  real  spiritual  meaning,  which  we  should  first  of  all 
endeavour  to  discover,  as  the  foundation  of  all  our  reason- 
ings and  persuasions.  We  should  open,  allege,  argue, 
enforce,  and  apply,  from  this  mind  of  the  Spirit  in  scrip- 
ture ;  nor  is  any  passage  fit  for  a  text,  properly  speaking, 
which  does  not  admit  of  such  an  improvement  of  it,  in 
its  real  meaning.  But  that,  which  you  seem  to  call  the 
«  spiritual  meaning,'  is  frequently  no  more  than  a  }ie'w 
meaning  put  upon  it  by  a  lively  lancy. — Typical  sui)jects, 
invletd,  havef  a  spiritual  meaning,  and  in  another  sense, 
under  the  literal  meaning ;  being  intended  by  the  Holy 


XVIII.]  HIS  WORKS.  587 

spirit,  to  shadow  forth  spiritual  blessings  under  external 
signs  ;  and  some  prophetical  visions  are  enigmatical,  and 
the  spiritual  meaning  is  the  unriddling  of  the  enigma. — 
Parables,  and  such  parts  of  scripture  as  the  Canticles,  are 
of  the  same  nature.  But*  in  all,  the  judgment  should  be 
the  expositor,  not  the  fancy  ;  and  we  should  inquire  what 
the  Holy  Spirit  meant,  not  what  we  can  make  of  it. 
But  there  are  many  scriptures  that  have  no  other  mean- 
ing, than  the  literal  ;  and  which  are  to  be  improved,  not 
by  finding  out  a  new  meaning  and  calling  it  spiritual^  but 
by  trying  what  useful  instruction  we  can  dediice  from  the 
plain  sense  of  the  passage.''  He  then  applies  these  prin- 
ciples to  the  particular  passage  in  question.  But  for  that 
application,  the  reader  must  be  referred  to  the  paper 
itself. — He  concludes,  "  My  dear  sir,  I  am  so  deeply 
convinced,  that  this  way  of  accommodation  is  capable  of 
very  dangerous  abuses,  and  has  been  so  abused  to  very 
bad  purposes,  by  those,  who  make  divisions  and  deceive 
souls,  that  I  grieve  when  any  person  of  real  piety  and 
respectability  gives  countenance  to  it ;  and  I  have  so  high 
an  opinion  of  your  integrity,  benevolence,  desire  of  glo- 
rifying God,  and  of  doing  good,  and  of  your  talents  like- 
wise, if  properly  exerted,  that  I  have  long  wished  to  dis- 
cuss the  subject  with  you." 

II.  Next  to  the  "  Force  of  Truth,''  one  of  his  earli- 
est publications  was  the  ^^  Discourse  on  Repentance  :'' 
and  this  may  be  considered  as  the  first  of  a  series  of  The- 
ological Treatises,  including  "  The  Warrant  and  Nature 
of  Faith, "the  ^'Treatise  on  Growth  in  Grace,"  the  ^^Ser- 
mon  on  Election  and  Final  Perseverance,"  the  ''  Essays 
on  the  most  Important  Subjects  in  Religion  :"  to  which 
we  may  add  the  volume  of  *•  Sermons  on  Select  Sub- 
jects," the  "  Four  Sermons,"  and  the  "  Notes  on  the 
Pilgrim's  Progress." 


588  HIS  woiiKs.  [Chap; 

The  first  of  these  works  is  a  most  serious,  affectionate, 
and  impressive  address  on  a  subject  vvhicli  appeared  to 
the  author,  at  the  period  ofthe  publication,  to  be  peculiarly 
neglected,  and  which,  he  thought,  was  seldom  so  much 
insisted  upon  as  it  ought  to  be.  The  instances,  in  which 
the  work  is  known  to  have  been  productive  ofthe  hap- 
piest effects,  are  numerous.  Though  a  plain,  practical 
composition  it  exhibits  much  of  that  which  distinguished 
the  writers  views  of  Christianity.  He  insists  strongly 
on  the  immutable  obligation  ofthe  divine  law,  its  equity 
as  well  as  purity,  and  the  inexcusableness  of  transgression, 
notwithstanding  the  fallen  state  of  human  nature  :  marks 
the  connexion  of  repentance  with  faith,  with  forgiveness 
of  sin,  and  with  every  part  of  religion — exposing  the  un- 
soundness of  that  religion  in  which  it  does  not  bear  even 
a  pronnnent  place  ;  and  distinguishes  between  fiiith  and 
personal  assurance  in  the  same  manner  as  he  always  con- 
tinued to  do. — Of  the  strictness  of  his  practical  system, 
the  reader  may  judge  by  what  he  has  said,  in  speaking 
ofthe  nature  of  repentance,  on  the  subjects  of  restitution; 
dealing  in  smuggled  or  contraband  goods:  and  the  case 
of  bankrupts. 

The  occasion  of  the  "  Warrant  and  Nature  of  Faitlv' 
has  already  been  in  some  measure  explained.  In  that 
work  the  author  may  be  said  to  attempt  to  hold  the  bal- 
ance between  certain  excellent  men  at  home — Marshall, 
Hervey,  Romaine — in  whose  sentiments  concerning  faith 
and  assurance,  and  some  other  points,  he  could  not  con- 
cur ;  and  the  New  England  divines — particularly  Ed- 
wards and  Bellamy — whom  he  held  in  high  estimation, 
but  who,  he  thought  had  raised  a  prejudice  against  their 
own  writings  by  pushing  some  things  too  fiir,  and  thus 
''  throwing  impedients  in  the  sinner's  path,  when  endea- 
vouring with  trembling  steps  to  come  to  the  gracious  Sa- 


XVm.]  HIS  WORKS.  589 

viour,''  "  and  candemning  many  as  self-deceivers,  whom 
God  would  own  as  real,  though  weak  believers. '' 

The  work  consists,  of  two  parts  :  one  of  which  mian- 
tains,  that  the  word  of  God,  independently  of  any  per- 
sonal qualifications,  is  the  sinner's  only  and  sufficient  ivar- 
rantj  or  authority  for  exercising  faith  in  Christ ;  and  as- 
signs reasons  for  insisting  on  this  position  :  the  other  as- 
serts the  holy  nature  of  true  faith  in  all  cases,  and  that 
it  is  the  effect  of  regeneration  ;  and  alleges  distinct  rea- 
sons for  insisting  upon  these  positions  as  well  as  the  other. 
In  speaking  of  the  nature  of  faith  the  author  is  careful  to 
impress  the  sentiment,  that  it  always  connects  with  a 
humble  earnest  application  to  the  divine  Redeemer  for 
salvation  ;  which  he  does  in  order  to  distinguish  it  from 
a  mere  inert  reliance,  with  which  he  apprehends  many 
deceive  themselves.  He  also  discriminates  between  faith 
and  personal  assurance  of  acceptance  with  God,  which  he 
"  not  only  grants,  but  strenuously  maintains,  that  no  one 
is  w^arranted''  to  cherish,   "  except  as  he  has  clear  proof 
that  he  is  in  Christ  a  new  creature :  and  has  crucified 
the  flesh  with  its  affections  and  lusts P 

Much  of  the  book  is  employed  in  establishing  what,  to 
a  mind  not  corrupted  from  scriptural  simplicity  by  spec- 
ulation or  controversy,  might  not  seem  to  require  proof: 
but  the  general  result  will  be  found  very  important :  of 
which,  I  think,  the  pious  reader  may  be  fully  convinced, 
by  turning,  previously  to  his  perusal  of  the  whole,  to  the 
introductory  and  the  concluding  pages. 

The  small  •*  Treatise  on  Growth  in  Grace''  has  been  a 
favourite  with  some  of  its  author's  most  distinguished 
friends.  In  this  work,  the  origin  and  progress  of  "  the 
love  of  God"  in  the  human  heart  are  well  traced  ;  a  com- 
prehensive account  is  given  of  Christian  love,  in  general ; 
and  the  question  of  Christians  '^  leaving  their  first  love" 


590  HIS  WORKS.  [Chap. 

is  discussed.  Christian  zeal  is  also  considered,  and  the 
notion  of  love  (instead  of  the  law  of  God)  being  our  rule: 
and  the  temper  and  character  of  the  ripe  and  mature 
Christian  are  admirably  delineated.  This  tract,  it  will 
be  remembered,  was  composed  for  the  benefit  of  the  be- 
loved people  whom  the  author  had  recently  left  at  Haven- 
stone,  and  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Olney. 

Of  it,  ])erhaps,  in  particular  it  may  be  remarked,  what 
appears  to  me  true  of  his  writings  in  general,  that,  while 
they  carefully  avoid  certain  extremes  which  have  been 
countenanced  by  some  good  men  of  a  different  school, 
they  pi'csent  the  peculiar  excellencies  of  the  New  Eng- 
land divines,  relieved  from  a  certain  forbidding  aspect 
which  their  writings  wear  to  the  inexperienced  reader. 

The  '*  Sermon  on  Election  and  Final  Perseverance''  is 
of  a  very  moderate  and  practical  cast.  Had  these  doc- 
trines been  always  exhibited  in  the  manner  here  exem- 
plified, prejudice  must  have  been  much  abated,  and  many 
arguments  employed  against  them  must  have  been  felt  to 
be  irrelevant.  The  author  expressly  undertakes  to  shew 
that  they  are  '''  consistent  with  exhortatory  and  practical 
preaching,  and  conducive  to  holiness  of  life."  Different 
opinions  will  be  formed  of  his  success  in  this  undertaking: 
one  thing,  however,  is  most  evident,  that,  in  asserting 
what  he  deemed  to  be  one  part  of  scriptural  truth,  it  never 
entered  into  his  plan  to  give  up  another  part,  or  in  the 
least  degree  to  throw  it  into  shade. — What  may  appear 
to  some  a  peculiarity  of  the  sermon,  though  that  must  be 
ill  intitled  to  such  a  name,  which  is  common  to  almost  all 
Calvinistic  churchmen,  to  many  dissenters,  and  to  the 
principal  American  divines,  is  its  maintaining,  in  con- 
nexion with  its  other  doctrines,  that  of  Chi'ist's  having 
died  for  all  men,  or,  in  other  words,  of  general,  or  uni- 
versal redemption.    It  mav  deserve  also  to  be  remarked, 


XVIII.]  HIS  WORKS.  591 

that  the  author  adduces,  in  this  discourse,  as  most  exactly 
expressive  of  his  sentiments  upon  this  subject,  a  part  of 
the  Church  Catechism,  which  the  present  Bishop  of  Vv'in- 
chester,  several  years  afterwards,  brought  forward  in  one 
of  those  charges  which  formed  the*  ground-work  of  his 
^^  Refutation  of  Calvinism,"  as  decisive  proof  that  the 
Church  of  England  rejected  the  doctrines  in  support  of 
which  the  sermon  is  written.  The  part  of  the  chatechism 
referred  to  is  that,  which  affirms  that  God  the  Son  "  re- 
deemed all  mankind, ''  and  that  Go^l  the  Holy  Ghost 
"  santifieth  all  the  elect  people  of  God  ;"  placing  the  lim- 
itation not  on  redemption  but  on  sanctification  ;  or,  as 
some  have  expressed  it,  not  upon  the  impetration^  but 
upon  the  opp/zm^/o^  of  redemption. 

Before  we  quit  this  publication,  I  w^ould  observe  that, 
firmly  as  the  author  held  the  doctrines  of  personal  elec- 
tion and  final  perseverance,  he  continued  to  the  end  of 
life,  as  he  had  done  in  his  "  Force  of  Truth,"  to  place 
these  tenets  in  a  very  different  rank  from  those  of  human 
depravity,  justification  by  faith,  and  regeneration  and 
sanctification  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  latter  and  not  the 
former,  whatever  any  may  choose  to  impute  to  him,  con- 
stituted the  substance  of  his  divinity  and  of  his  teaching ; 
as  they  do  of  those  of  the  clergy  with  whom  he  is  usual- 
ly classed.  We  have  found  this  as  strongly  stated  in  his 
private  correspondence  as  it  can  be  in  any  public  docu- 
ments either  of  his,  or  of  those  who*  from  their  avowing 
less  Calvinism  than  he  did,  are  represented  as  being  less 
honest.  We  have  seen  him  not  only  adopting  Mr.  New- 
ton's sentiment,  that,  though  Calvinistic  principles  were 
to  diff*usean  influence  overall  our  instructions,  they  were, 
generally  speaking,  to  be  found  no  where  in  the  lump  i"^ 

*  Above,  p.  410. 


592  HIS  WORKS.  [Chap. 

but  also  writing  to  a  friciul^  If  you  find  any  thing  too 
Calvinistic  for  you  in  my  works  "  you  must  skip  it.;^ 
and  even  saying  of  Mr.  Wilberforce's  book,  "  It  is  not 
Calvinistic — perhaps  it  is  so  much  the  better  :''t — that 
is^  it  may  the  better  answer  the  purposes  for  which  it  was 
written.  And,  at  the  close  of  this  very  "  Sermon  on 
Election  and  Perseverance,"  he  thus  declares  his  senti- 
ments concerning  bringing  these  doctrines  forward  in  the 
pulpit  : 

^^  And  now  in  applying  the  subject  I  would  observe 
thatj  while  numbers  argue  with  the  greatest  vehemence 
against  the  points  in  question,  and  groundlessly  charge 
them  with  implying  the  most  dishonourable  thoughts  of 
God,  and  tending  to  the  most  pernicious  consequences  ; 
others  are  ready  to  say,  in  extravagant  zeal,  to  any  one 
of  greater  moderation,  '  If  you  really  believe  these  doc- 
trines, why  do  you  preach  them  so  sparingly,  cautiously, 
and  practically?"  I  would  desire  such  a  man  carefully 
to  study  even  St.  Paul's  Epistles,  and  to  answer  the  ob- 
jection himself.  Perhaps  he  may  find  that  there  is  not  a 
less  proportion  on  such  subjects  in  our  sernions  and  pub- 
lications, than  in  his  writings ;  and  that  he  as  carefully 
guards  them  from  abuse,  and  connects  them  as  much  with 
holy  practice,  as  We  can  do.  We  generally  meet  with  a 
few  verses  in  an  Epistle  upon  the  doctrines  in  question : 
a  much  larger  proportion  upon  the  person,  love,  and  suf- 
ferings of  Christ,  and  on  ffiith  in  him  ;  and  whole  chap- 
ters upon  a  holy  life  and  conversation  :  and,  if  we  do  not 
in  the  same  manner  proportion,  guard,  and  connect  them, 
hypocrites  will  abuse  them,  infidels  will  despise  them, 
and  the  weak  will  be  stumbled.  Indeed  they  are  not  at 
all  proper  subjects  to  insist  on,  when  we  preach  to  sinners, 

*  Above,  p.  416.  t  Above,  p.  324. 


XVIII.  HIS  WORKS.  593 

to  prejudiced  hearers,  or  newly- awakened  persons  ;  and 
are  seldom  if  ever  found  in  scripture  explicitly  thus  ad- 
dressed :  yet  a  great  part  of  our  more  public  ministry  is 
exercised  among  such  persons.  Let  it  not  then  be  thought 
carnal  policy  to  adapt  our  discourses  to  the  occasions  and 
wants  of  the  hearers,  while  nothing  inconsistent  with 
truth  is  spoken,  nothing  profitable  kept  back.  Our  Lord 
himself  says,  /  have  yet  many  things  to  say  unto  you, 
but  ye  cannot  bear  them  now  :  and  Paul  writes  to  some^ 
who  were  prone  to  be  wise  in  their  own  conceits — / 
could  not  speak  unto  you  as  unto  spiritual,  bat  as  unto 
carnal.  I  have  fed  you  with  milk,  and  not  with  meat, 
for  hitherto  ye  were  not  able  to  bear  it ;  neither  yet  are 
ye  now  able :  and  he  gives  a  reason  for  this  conduct, 
which  proves  that  many  in  most  congregations  are  not 
able,  namely  the  prevalence  of  strife  and  contention  among 
them.'' 

The  volume  of  "  Essays"  is  too  well  known  to  need 
any  extended  remarks.  The  author  himself  speaks  of  it 
as  containing  "  a  compendious  system  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion, according  to  his  views  of  it :"  and  Mr.  Wilson  de- 
scribes it  as  ^^incomparable  for  the  plain  exposition  of 
truth."  It  is  close,  and  full  of  thought  perspicuously 
and  forcibly  expressed  ;  and  perhaps  no  where,  within 
the  same  compass,  can  the  reader  be  referred  to  more  co- 
pious, sound,  and  important  religious  instruction.  I 
would  point  out  particularly  the  second  Essay,  on  the  Im- 
portance of  Revealed  Truth,  and  on  the  reception  of  it 
upon  the  authority  of  Him  who  has  revealed  it ;  the  third, 
on  the  Scriptural  Character  of  God  ;  the  fifteenth,  on  the 
Uses  of  the  Moral  Law  in  subserviency  to  the  Gospel ; 
the  eighteenth,  on  the  Disposition  and  Character  of  the 
True  Believer;  the  twentieth  and  twenty -first  on  Rela- 
lative  Duties ;  and  the  twenty-third  on  the  Improvement 

4  F 


394  HIS  WOKKS.  [CllAP.. 

of  Talents  ;  as  characteristic,  and  peculiarly  valuable. — 
One  delightful  instance  of  the  usefulness  of  this  work,  in 
the  case  of  a  literary  and  philosophic  character,  who  was 
by  its  means  reclaimed  from  sceptical  principles,  and  es- 
tablished in  the  practical  and  efiectual  faith  of  the  gos- 
pel, has  since  the  author's  death,  been  announced  to  the 
world  in  the  brief  Memoir  of  Thomas  Bateman,  M.  D.* 
But  this  is  only  one  among  many  proofs  of  the  happy 
effects  of  his  writings. 

In  speaking  of  his  ^^  Volume  of  Sermons,''  and  of  his 
"  Four  Sermons,"  which  may  be  connected  with  them, 
I  shall  not  presume  to  enter  into  any  examination  of  his 
pulpit  composition.  The  subject  has  already  been  touch- 
ed upon  both  by  Mr.  Wilson,  and  in  the  letter  which  I 
had  so  much  pleasure  in  inserting  at  the   close    of  his 
^'  Character."'     He  is  allowed  to  have  been  defective  in 
style  and  manner,  and  in  some  other  qualities,    which 
might  have  rendered  his  discourses  more  attractive,  both 
to  the  hearer  and  the  reader  :  but  it  would  not  be  easy  to 
point  out  a  preacher  whose  sermons  carried  in   them 
greater  weight  of  matter,  or  who  more  excelled  in  ^Mnght- 
ly  dividing  the  word  of  truth,"  giving  to  every  charac- 
ter "  his  portion  in  due  season."     I  confess  it  always  ap- 
peared to  me,  that,  while  he  was  the  strictest  and  most 
practical  preacher  I  could  hear,  he  was  also  the  most  con- 
solatory ;  because  he  not  only  pointed  out  where  comfort 
was  to  be  had,  but  what  was  the  legitimate  mode  of  ap- 
propriating it.     By  always  describing  the  character  for 
whom  it  was  designed,  and  that  with   great  condescen- 
sion to  the  feeling  of  the  humblest  upright  Christian,  he 

*  Christian  Observer  for  November  1821  :  since  published  as 
a  separate  tract,  with  some  additions,  by  Butterworths,  Fleet 
Street. 


XVlIL]  HIS  WORKS.  595 

enabled  those  to  whom  consolation  belonged  to  perceive 
their  interest  in  it. 

The  design  of  his  volume  of  Sermons  was  thus  ex- 
plained by  himself,  in  a  preface  not  retained  in  the  later 
editions  :  ^^To  shew  the  absolute  necessity  of  evangelical 
principles  in  order  to  holy  practice,  and  their  never- fail- 
ing efficacy  in  sanctifying  the  heart,  when  cordially  re- 
ceived ;  and  to  exhibit,  according  to  the  best  of  the  au- 
thor's ability,  the  nature  and  effects  of  genuine  Christia- 
nity, as  distinguished  from  every  species  of  false  religion, 
without  going  far  out  of  his  way  to  combat  any  of  them  ; 
is  the  especial  design  of  this  publication.  But  he  has, 
at  the  same  time,  endeavoured  to  explain,  establish,  and 
enforce  his  views  of  the  gospel  in  that  manner  which  was 
deemed  most  likely  to  inform  the  mind,  and  affect  the 
heart,  of  the  attentive  and  teachable  reader," 

In  commenting  on  "  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  he  has 
not  only  illustrated  more  fully  and  distinctly,  than  had 
ever  before  been  done,  the  various  scenes  and  characters 
of  that  ingenious  and  most  iustructive  allegory  ;  but  has 
found  ample  scope  for  unfolding  and  enforcing  those  views 
of  religion  for  which  he  always  pleaded,  and  in  which  he 
appears  to  have  entirely  coincided  with  his  author.  In 
his  preface,  and  in  the  Life  of  Bunyan,  he  thus  speaks  of 
the  original  work  :  "  The  accurate  observer  of  the  church 
in  his  own  days,  and  the  learned  student  of  ecclesiastical 
history,  must  be  equally  surprised  to  find,  that  hardly 
one  remarkable  character,  good  or  bad,  or  mixed  in  any 
manner  or  proportion  imaginable,  or  one  fatal  delusion, 
by-path,  or  injurious  mistake,  can  be  singled  out,  which 
may  not  be  paralleled,  as  to  the  grand  outlines,  in  the 
Pilgrim's  Progress."  Yet  "  the  author  was  only  thirty- 
two  years  of  age  when  he  was  imprisoned ;"  in  which  si- 
tuation he  wrote  this  work  : )  "  he  had  spent  his  youth  in 


59(3  HIS  WORKS.  [Chap. 

tlie  most  disadvantageous  manner  imaginable:  and  he  had 
beeii  no  more  than  iive  years  a  member  of  the  chureh  at 
B(  (ilbrd,  and  less  time  a  preacher  of  the  gospel  ;*^  and 
during  part,  at  least,  of  his  tedious  imprisonment  of 
twelve  yeaiN,  he  had  "  no  books,  except  a  Bible,  and 
Fox's  Mai'tyrology." — One  specimen  of  the  notes  has  al- 
ready appeared  in  this  work. 

III.  Occasional  Sermons. 

Of  these,  seven  are  funeral  sermons,  on  Dr.  Conyers, 
Mr.  Thornton,  the   Rev.  Messrs.  Newell,   Penty cross, 
and  Barneth,  Lady  Mary  Fitzgerald,  and  the  Princess 
Charlotte.     In  most  of  these  discourses   he  speaks  not 
much  of  the  individuals ;   but  notices  the  excellencies  of 
their  characters  only  in  a  general  way.     In  that  on  Dr. 
Conyers,  a  change  of  manner,  as  compared  with  his  pre- 
ceding publications,  may  be  traced,  which  would  not  be 
favourable  to  popularity.     There  is  an  increase,  or  even 
excess  of  comprehensiveness,  but  a  diminution  of  anima- 
tion.    Indeed  he  complains  in  a  letter,  that  it  cost  him 
more  than  usual  trouble  to  reduce  this  sermon  to  writing, 
after  having  preached  it.     The  Sermons  on  Mr.  Thorn- 
ton, Lady  Mary  Fitzgerald,  and  the  Princess,  have  al- 
ready been  sufliciently  noticed.     That  on  Mr.  Newell 
contains  a  copious  and  beautiful  illustration  of  the  text, 
^^To  me  to  live  is  Christ,''  &c.,  to  which  great  stores  of 
scriptural  knowledge  are  made  to  contribute.     Both  this 
discourse  and  that  on  Mr.  Pentycross  display  the  pratical 
workman,  the  minister  that  "  watches  for  souls,''  in  the 
manner  in  which  the  subject  is  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
various  descriptions  of  persons  concerned  in  the  event  to 
be  improved.   The  latter  particularly  considers  the  «xyS«:r/f, 
"'  the  end  of  the  minister's  conversation,"  spoken  of  in 
the  text,   Hebrews  xiii.  7,  8.     That  on  the  missionary 
Barneth  describes  the  Christian  *^  hero,"   in  the    very 


XVIII.]  HIS  WORKS.  o97 

spirit  of  the  character  itself^  and  is  rich  in  scriptural  illus- 
tration. 

His  Sermons  on  national  occasions  are  also  seven  in 
number:  namely,  Fast  Sermons  in  1793,  1794,  and  1796; 
and  Thanksgiving  Sermons  in  1784,  1798,  1802,  and 
1814  ;  to  which  may  be  added  his  tract  on  the  ''  Signs 
and  Duties  of  the  Times/'  in  1799. 

Three  principles  pervade  all  his  publications  of  this 
description:  1.  That  the  proper  business  of  national 
fast  days  is  humiliating  before  God  for  our  sins  as  a  people 
and  as  individuals :  and  that  of  national  thanksgiving-days, 
the  acknowledgment  of  God's  unmerited  mercies  to  us  : 

2.  That  the  national  guilt,  which  draws  down  divine 
judgments  upon  us,  is  the  aggregate  of  individual  trans- 
gression, to  which  we  have  all  contributed  our  full  share  : 

3.  That  whoever  be  the  instruments  or  means,  both  ca- 
lamities and  deliverances  are  to  be  considered  as  coming 
from  the  hand  of  God  ;  and  that  it  is  his  part  in  them, 
with  which  alone  we  are  concerned  on  these  occasions. 
"  Humiliation  for  sin,"  he  observes,  "  or  gratitude  for 
unmerited  blessings,  has  nothing  to  do  with  approbation 
or  disapprobation  of  men  or  measures.''  Thus  he  declines 
all  political  discussion — (not  including,  however,  under 
that  description,  such  an  inculcation  of  the  duties  owing 
from  subjects  to  their  rulers,  as  is  expressly  enjoined  on 
Christian  ministers  ;*) — avoids  taking  the  side  of  any  par- 
ty ;  rejects  all  declamation  against  the  sins  of  our  enemies; 
and  makes  the  whole  bear,  as  a  personal  concern,  on  every 
individual. 

On  this  whole  <*lass  of  his  publications  I  would  remark, 
that,  whereas  it  might  be  thought  an  uninteresting  task 
to  read  over  these  obsolete  fast  and  thanksgiving  sermons, 

*  Titus  lii.  ] , 


598  HIS  WORKS.  [Chap. 

I  have  by  no  means  found  it  so.  On  the  contrary  I  think 
it  im|)Ossil)le  for  the  well-disposed  mind  to  peruse  them, 
without  very  gratifying  and  very  beneficial  impressions  ; 
especially  when  the  subsequent  course  of  events,  and  in 
particular  the  history  of  religious  and  benevolent  institu- 
tions, is  retraced  in  connexion  with  them. 

Sermons  preached  for  institutions  of  this  description  are 
the  only  ones  which  remain  to  be  noticed. 

That  before  the  Church  Missionary  Society,  in  1801, 
is  a  very  copious  discourse  on  the  question  of  Missions, 
in  which,  among  other  topics,  the  view  which  the  scrip- 
tures present  of  the  state  and  prospects  of  the  heathen  is 
considered,  and  it  is  affirmed,  that  to  think  so  well  as 
many  profess  to  do  of  their  condition  is  a  virtual  denial  of 
Christianity  :  and  that  contrary  sentiments  concerning 
their  state,  so  far  from  being  the  dictate  of  uncharitable- 
ness,  have  been  the  source  of  all  the  practical  charity 
which  has  been  exercised  towards  them. — That  before 
the  London  Missionary  Society,  in  1804,  is  a  very  ani- 
mated and  effective  address  on  the  command,  "  Pray  ye 
therefore  the  Lord  of  the  harvest,  that  he  would  send 
forth  labourers  into  his  harvest."  In  it  the  author  ob- 
serves of  himself:  ^^  An  early  acquaintance  with  the 
writings  of  President  Edw\ards,  Brainerd,  and  the  New 
England  divines,  gave  my  mind  a  peculiar  turn  to  this 
subject.  The  nations  unacquainted  with  Christ  have 
ever  since  been  near  my  heart :  and  I  never  thought  a 
prayer  complete,  in  which  they  were  wholly  forgotten. 
This  was  the  case  several  years  before  societies  for  mis- 
sions (that  is,  new  societies  in  England)  were  estab- 
lished :  but  I  could  do  no  more  than  offer  my  feeble 
prayers." 

His  sermon  before  the  London  Society  for  promoting 
Christianity  among  the  Jews,  in  1810,  is   perhaps  the 


XVIII.]  HIS  WORKS.  599 

most  spirited  of  all  his  printed  discourses.  It  contains  a 
very  interesting  illustration  of  the  remarkable  prophecy, 
Zach.  viii.  23  :  "  In  those  days  it  shall  come  to  pass, 
that  ten  men  shall  take  hold,  out  of  all  languages  of  the 
nations,  even  shall  take  hold  of  the  skirt  of  him  that  is  a 
Jew,  saying.  We  will  go  with  you,  for  we  have  heard 
that  God  is  with  you."  Nothing  could  be  more  unlikely, 
at  the  time  this  prophecy  was  delivered,  than  the  fulfil- 
ment which  it  has  received,  in  all  the  most  enlightened 
nations  of  the  earth  becoming  worshippers  of  the  God  of 
the  despised  Jews  !  Yet  the  preacher  argues,  from  com- 
parison of  the  passage  with  other  scriptures,  that  it  has  a 
still  more  astonishing,  at  least  a  much  more  extensive  ac- 
complishment yet  to  receive. 

The  last  Sermon  of  this  description  is  that  before  the 
Governors  of  the  London  Female  Penitentiary,  in  1812; 
which  is  on  "  that  one  single  event  occurring  on  earth, 
that  is  declared  to  cause  joy  in  heaven" — a  sinner's 
coming  to  repentance. 

IV.  Works  directed  against  the  infidelity  and  disaf- 
fection of  the  times. — These  are  the  Rights  of  God,  the 
Answer  to  the  Age  of  Reason,  and  the  Tract  on  Govern- 
ment. 

The  first,  it  has  already  been  said,  gained  but  little 
attention  ;  less,  I  think,  than  it  deserves,  as  compared 
with  the  rest  of  the  author's  smaller  works.  It  is  per- 
haps the  best  written,  in  point  of  style,  of  all  his  publi- 
cations. It  is  also  well  argued,  and  seems  suited  to  the 
purpose  of  precluding  manv  of  those  false  reasonings,  by 
which  numbers  are  prejudiced  against  the  scriptures  pre- 
viously to  examination ;  and  excuse  to  their  own  minds 
the  neglect  with  which  they  treat  them.  It  is  calculated 
to  obviate  infidelity,  not  by  meeting  its  cavils  in  detail, 
but  by  possessing  the  mind  with  principles  which  would 


600  HIS  WORKS.  [Chap. 

exclude  tljeni.  It  ])lcacls  tlie  cause  of  Christian  doctrines 
not  by  adducing  scrij)tnral  proofs, — for  that  would  be 
foreign  to  the  present  ])urpose, — but  by  defending  them 
against  the  charge  of  being  so  unreasonable  as  to  be  re- 
jected without  listening  to  their  evidence. — Besides 
meeting  specific  objections,  the  Answer  to  Paine  treats 
more  generally,  in  as  many  distinct  chapters,  of  Revela- 
tion, Miracles,  Prophecy,  the  Canon  of  Scripture,  Mys- 
tery, Redemption,  the  Insufficiency  of  Deism,  and  the 
Nature  and  Tendency  of  Christianity. 

The  "  Impartial  Statement  of  the  Scripture  Doctrine 
in  respect  of  Civil  Government,  and  the  Duties  of  Sub- 
jects,'' must  be  allowed,  I  think,  by  all  candid  persons, 
to  be  very  moderate,  wise,  and  useful ;  and  it  is  still  sea- 
sonable. It  is  divided  into  three  chapters :  the  first 
containing  "  Propositions  concerning  Civil  Government 
as  the  ordinance  of  God  :''  the  second  pointing  out 
"  Things  not  the  duties  of  Subjects  to  their  Rulers  :" 
and  the  third,  '^  Duties  incumbent  on  us  to  our  Rulers, 
and  in  respect  of  Civil  Government.'' 

V.  Other  Controversial  Works  :  namely,  the  Answer 
to  Rabbi  Crooll  on  the  Jewish  question,  the  Answer  to 
Bishop  Tomline's  "  Refutation  of  Calvinism,"  and,  as 
arising  out  of  it,  the  History  of  the  Synod  of  Dort. 

The  first  of  these  publications  has  been  repeatedly  ad- 
verted to  in  letters  written  while  it  was  in  preparation, 
and  inserted  in  a  former  part  of  this  work.  It  may  here 
be  remarked  thcit,  besides  following  the  work  which  gave 
occasion  to  it,  from  page  to  page,  and  answering  its  ob- 
jections, or  meeting  its  arguments  as  they  arise,  (a  mode 
of  reply,  which,  it  must  be  confessed,  combines  with  some 
advantages  an  apparent  want  of  arrangement.)  it  dis- 
cusses, in  a  distinct  manner,  the  following  principal  ques- 
tions and  subjects  : 


XVIIL]  HIS  WORKS.  601 

1.  ^  Was  the  Messiah,  predicted  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, to  have  an  immediate  human  father  ? 

2.  '  Was  he  to  be  a  mere  man  or  not? 

3.  '  At  what  period  was  his  coming  to  take  place? 

'  A.   '  What  are  we  to  understand  by  "  the  times  of  the 
Gentiles?'' 

5.  '  What  have  been  the  effects  of  Christ's  coming  on 
the  state  of  the  world  ?' — answered  in  a  very  forcible  and 
interesting  manner. 

6.  ^The  triumphs  of  Jesus  compared  with  those  of 
Mohammed  5'  particularly  in  three  points,  1 .  '  The  state 
of  the  countries  in  which  their  first  successes  were  re- 
spectively obtained  :  2.  The  nature  of  the  religion  pro- 
pagated by  each  :  and,  3.  The  means  by  which  the  tri- 
umphs of  each  were  gained  ?' — This  was  the  author's 
favourite  section,  and  it  is  certainly  very  striking.  It 
treats  the  subject  more  in  detail  than  is  usually  done. 

7.  '  Whether  the  Messiah  was  to  be  the  Messiah  of 
Israel  only,  or  of  the  Gentiles  also  ? 

8.  '  How  far  and  in  what  cases  miracles  are  a  proof  of 
a  divine  mission  ? 

9.  '  Was  the  Messiah's  kingdom  to  be  spiritual  or 
absolutely  earthly  ? 

10.  ^The  Priesthood  of  the  Messiah. 

11.  ^The  reception  which  he  was  to  meet  with  from 
the  nation  of  Israel. 

12.  '  The  death  which  he  was  to  suffer,  and  the  end  to 
be  answered  by  it.' — Here  striking  remarks  are  made  on 
Isaiah  liii,  Psalm  xxii,  and  other  scriptures. 

13.  '  His  resurrection,  subsequent  glory,  and  king- 
dom.' 

All  these  questions  are,  of  course,  discussed  from  the 
Old  Testament  alone.     The  subjects  also  of  sacrifices,  the 

.      4G  .;'--■--'•- 


60'<^  HIS  WORKS.  [Chap, 

oral  law,  or  tniditions,  and  several  others  come  under 
consideration. 

Of  the  work  generally,  tlie  Christian  Observer,  for 
1815,  thus  speaks  :  "  Should  it  prove  the  c.ycnea  vox^ 
the  dying  note  of  this  truly  great  man,  (the  author,) 
which  we  trust  it  may  not,  we  shall  say  much  for  this 
publication. if  we  pronounce  it  worthy  to  be  so  ;  and  state 
it  to  be  inferior  neither  in  matter  nor  temper  to  any  of 
the  truly  Christian  productions  of  his  powerful  mind." 

On  the  Answer  to  the  "  Refutation  of  Calvanism"  I 
shall  do  little  more  than  transcribe  the  opinion  which 
Mr.  Wilson  has  given,  in  notes  annexed  to  his  funeral 
sermons.  "  It  appears  to  me,''  he  says,  "  incomparable 
for  the  acute  and  masterly  defence  of  truth.''  And 
again  :  "  The  effects  of  these  great  qualities" — decision, 
activity,  and  childlike  submission,  to  divine  revelation, — 
"  are  observable  in  every  part  of  our  departed  friend's 
writings.  They  are  full  of  thought ;  full  of  '  the  seeds 
of  things,'  as  was  said  of  Lord  Bacon's  works.  The  ore 
dug  up  from  the  mine  is  not  unalloyed  indeed,  but  it  h 
rich  and  copious,  and  well  worthy  of  the  process  neces- 
sary to  bring  it  into  use.  Take  as  an  instance,  '  The 
Remarks,'  which,  in  the  second  edition,  I  venture  to  call 
one  of  the  first  theological  treatises  of  the  day  ;  it  is  preg- 
nant with  valuable  matter,  not  merely  on  the  questions 
directly  discussed,  but  on  almost  every  topic  of  doctrinal 
and  practical  divinity." 

It  is  needless  to  say,  that  they  are  not  the  mere  pecu- 
liarities of  Calvinism  which  are  defended  in  this  work  : 
had  such  been  the  only  points  assailed,  it  would  probably 
never  have  appeared.  "  But,  in  "  falling  foul  of  Calvin- 
ism," the  volume  which  gave  occasion  to  it  offended 
grievously  against  Bishop  Horsley's  caution,  to  beware 
of  ''  attacking  something  more  sacred,  and  of  a  higher 


XVIIL]  HIS  WORKS.  603 

origin'' — even  what  ''  belongs  to  our  common  Christiani- 
ty :''  and  hence  the  answer,  of  course,  takes  equally  wide 
ground. — To  the  Christian  temper,  and  respectful  style 
in  which  it  is  written,  the  learned  prelate  concerned  is 
said,  I  believe  upon  good  authority,  to  have  done  jus- 
tice. 

The  learned  and  candid  head  of  Oriel  College,  Oxford^ 
also,  in  quoting  from  this  work  a  passage  to  which  all 
who  engage  in  religious  controversy  would  do  well  to 
take  heed,  terms  the  author  "  one  of  the  most  pious  and 
temperate  writers"  among  modern  Calvin ists,  and  says 
of  him,  "  whose  truly  Christian  sentiments  I  always  ad- 
mire, although  his  opinions  upon  the  main  doctrine  under 
consideration" — that  of  predestination — "  appear  to  me 
mistaken  and  dangerous."^ 

The  little  work  on  the  Synod  of  Dort  arose  out  of  the 
preceding  publication.  The  account  of  the  Synod  com- 
monly received  in  this  country  is  that  furnished  by  the 
prejudiced  Peter  Heylin,  who  gives  the  abbreviation  of 
the  articles  by  Daniel  Tilenus,  instead  of  the  articles 
themselves.  His  statements  are  taken  upon  trust,  and 
repeated  by  one  writer  after  another,  in  a  manner  little 
creditable  either  to  their  diligence  or  their  candour. 
My  father,  finding  these  abbreviated  articles  in  the  Refu- 
tation of  Calvinism,  remarked  upon  them,  in  the  first 
edition  of  his  answer,  as  if  they  had  been  authentic,  and 
thus,  as  he  says,  "  erroneously  adopted  and  aided  in  cir- 
culating a  gross  misrepresentation  of  the  Synod."  The 
discovery  of  his  mistake  led  him  to  a  more  full  investiga- 
tion of  the  subject,  and  thus  to  translate  and  give  to  the 
public,  1.  ^^The  History  of  preceding  Events"  which 
led  to  the  convocation  of  the  Synod  ;  2.   "  The  Judgment 

*  Copleston  on  Necessity  and  Predestination,  p.  90. 


604  HIS  WOUK8.  [Chap, 

of  the  Synod,"  concerning  the  five  controverted  heads 
of  doctrine  :  3.  ''  The  Articles'^  of  the  Synod  :  4. 
^'  The  Approbation  of  the  States  General  :'^ — subjoining 
his  own  remarks  on  eacli  part.  The  translation  is  made 
from  the  "  Acts"  of  the  Synod  published  by  authority, 
in  a  Latin  quarto  volume:  a  work  which,  it  is  worthy  of 
remark,  is  never  alluded  to  by  either  Mosheim  or  his 
translator  Maclaine,  though  they  refer  to  various  other 
writings,  on  both  sides,  apparently  of  a  less  authentic 
character.  The  following  reasons  are  assigned  for  the 
publication  before  us  :  1.  '^  That  a  very  interesting  and 
important  part  of  ecclesiastical  history  has  been  obscured 
and  overwhelmed  with  unmerited  disgrace,  by  the  mis- 
representations given  of  the  Synod  and  its  articles,  espe- 
cially in  this  nation:"  2.  That  the  author  wished  ^^  to 
prove,  that  the  doctrines  commonly  termed  Calvinistic, 
whether  they  be  or  be  not  the  doctrines  of  scriptural 
Christianity,  may  yet  be  so  stated  and  explained,  without 
any  skilful  and  laboured  efforts,  as  to  coincide  with  the 
strictest  practical  views  of  our  holy  religion,  and  so  as 
grcotly  to  encourage  and  promote  genuine  holiness:"  3. 
That  '^  in  a  day  when  these  doctrines  are  not  only  pro- 
scribed in  a  most  hostile  manner  on  one  side,  but  deplo- 
rably misunderstood  and  perverted  by  many  on  the  other 
side,  he  desired  to  add  one  more  testimony  against  these 
misapprehensions  and  perversions,  by  shewing  in  what  a 
holy,  guarded,  and  reverential  manner  the  divines  of  this 
reprobated  Synod  stated  and  explained  them,  compared 
with  the  superficial,  incautious,  and  often  unholy  and 
presumptuous  manner  of  too  many  in  the  present  day  :'* 
1.  That  he  also  ^*  desired  to  make  it  manifest,  that  the 
deviations  from  the  creeds  of  the  reformed  churches,  in 
those  points  wliich  are  more  properly  called  Calvinistic, 
is  seldom  for  any  length  of  time  kept  separate  from  de- 


XVIII. ]  his' WORKS.  605 

viations  in  those  doctrines,  which  are  more  generall}' 
allowed  to  be  essential  to  vital  Christianity.''  5.  That 
he  "  purposed,  by  means  of  this  publication,  to  leave 
behind  him  in  print  his  deliberate  judgment  on  several 
controverted  points  ;  which  (judgment)  must  otherwise 
have  died  with  him,  or  have  been  published  separately, 
— for  which  he  had  no  inclination.''  The  controverted 
points  referred  to,  are  principally  those  relating  to  tole- 
ration, religious  liberty,  terms  of  communion,  and  other 
ecclesiastical  questions.  To  his  sentiments  here  deliver- 
ed on  these  subjects,  we  may  apply  what  he  himself  has 
said  of  the  kindred  ones  contained  in  another  publication, 
to  be  noticed  immediately,  they  are  such  as,/ ^  will  please 
the  bigots  of  no  party." 

In  this  work  (page  172,)  he  delivers  a  strong  opinion 
on  the  subject  of  what  is  miscalled  Catholic  emancipation. 

In  the  present  class  we  may  perhaps  range  the  only 
separate  publication  which  remains  to  be  noticed  :  the 
Letters  to  the  Rev.  Peter  Roe  on  Ecclesiastical  Establish- 
ments, adherence  to  the  Church  of  England,  &c.  with  a 
Tractate  annexed  on  the  Religious  Establishment  of  Israel. 
The  last  he  esteemed  to  be  novel  :  at  least,  he  observed, 
it  was  quite  new  to  himself.  The  principle  which  it 
chiefly  goes  to  establish  is,  that  the  conduct  of  the  pious 
kings  and  governors  of  Judah, — Jehoshaphat,  Hezekiah, 
Josiah,  Zerubbabel,  Ezra,  Nehemiah — in  their  exertions 
for  promoting  religion  among  those  under  their  command, 
which  are  sanctioned  by  the  unqualified  approbation  of 
scripture,  '^  was  not  adopted  in  obedience  to  any  part  of 
the  ritual  or  political  law  of  Moses,"  but  was  nothing 
more  than  that  improvement  of  their  talents,  which 
would  be  incumbent  upon  any  persons  now  occupying  si- 
milar stations,  and  "  was  intended  as  an  example  for  kings 
and  princes,  professing  Christianity,  to  imitate,"      That 


606  HIS  TiiEOLOuv.  [Chap. 

spirit  of  moderation,  which,  the  writer  anticipated, 
would  render  these  letters  distasteful  to  zealots  on  all 
sides,  will  make  them  the  more  acceptahle  to  fair  and 
reasonable  men  ;  and  they  will  probably  be  deemed  by 
such  persons  better  suited  to  plead  the  cause  of  the  esta- 
blished church,  by  their  not  taking  it  up  upon  too  high 
grounds. 

Besides  these  works,  my  father  was  the  author  of  many 
detached  papers  in  various  periodical  publications,  some 
of  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  fourth  volume  of  his  col- 
lected works ;  and  a  specimen  of  them  has  been  intro- 
duced in  speaking  of  the  general  principle  of  interpreta- 
tion adopted  in  his  Commentary. 

Passing  from  this  review  of  my  father's  works  to  some 
observations  on  the  general  character  of  his  theology,  I 
should  say,  that  its  great  and  distinguishing  excellency 
appears  to  be — its  coinprehensiveness.  It  embraces,  as 
far  perhaps  as  the  infirmity  of  human  nature  will  per- 
mit, the  whole  compass  of  scripture.  Like  the  father  of 
the  faithful,  he  "  walks  through  the  land  in  the  length 
thereof  and  in  the  breadth  thereof.''  It  would  be  diffi- 
cult, I  think,  to  name  a  writer,  who  more  faithfully  and 
unreservedly  brings  forward  every  part  of  scriptural  in- 
struction in  its  due  place  and  proportion,  and  is  content 
upon  all  of  them  "  to  speak  as  do  the  oracles  of  God.'' 
He  sacrifices  no  one  doctrine  or  principle,  nor  suffers 
himself  to  be  restrained  in  fairly  and  fully  pressing  each 
upon  attention,  by  jealousy  for  the  security  and  honour 
of  any  others.  Persuaded  that  scripture  is  every  where 
consistent  with  itself,  whether  it  appears  to  us  to  be  so  or 
not,  he  has  no  ambition  to  preserve  apparent  consistency 
more  exactly  than  the  sacred  writers  have  done.  Hence 
he  never  scruples  to  unite  together  those  truths  of  di- 
vine revelation  which  to  many  appear  as  if  they  must  ex- 


XVIIL]  HIS  THEOLOGY.  607 

elude  one  another.  He  teaches  the  total  inability  of  fal- 
len man,  unrenewed  by  divine  grace,  to  render  any  ac- 
ceptable obedience  to  God  ;  but  he  never  for  a  moment 
suffers  himself  to  be  entangled  in  the  reasonings  of  t|iose 
who  would  on  this  ground  call  in  question  the  obligations 
of  the  divine  law,  or  forbear  to  press  upon  all  men  the 
commands  and  exhortations,  which  the  sacred  scriptures 
do  certainly  address  to  them.  He  teaches  that  '^no  man 
can  come  to  Christ  except  the  Father  draw  him  :"  yet  he 
feels  no  hesitation  in  connecting  with  this  principle,  the 
invitation,  ''  whosoever  will  let  him  come,''  the  assu- 
rance, "  him  that  cometh  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out,''  or 
the  inexcusable  guilt  of  those  who  "  will  not  come."  He 
believed  that  God  knew  whom  he  had  chosen,  and  that 
none  would  eventually  attain  eternal  life,  but  those  whom 
the  Father,  by  his  own  purpose  and  grace,  had  "  given" 
unto  Christ :  yet  he  unequivocally  teaches  that  Christ 
died  for  all  men,  and  that  none  fail  of  being  saved  by  him, 
except  by  their  own  fault.  He  asserts  with  unwavering 
confidence  and  zeal,  that  our  justification  is  altogether 
free,  of  grace,  through  faith,  "  for  the  merits  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ  alone,"  and  in  no  degree 
^^for  our  own  works  or  deservings :"  yet  he  equally 
maintains,  that  he  only  "  who  doeth  righteousness  is 
righteous  ;"  seeing  all  true  faith  must  and  will  prove 
itself  by  its  fruits  :  and  insists  that  we  are  still  under 
the  law  as  a  rule^  though  delivered  from  it  a  a  cove- 
nant. He  held  that  all  true  believers  in  Christ  are 
"  kept  by  the  power  of  God  through  faith  unto  sal- 
vation," and  will  certainly  persevere  unto  the  end  ; 
and  yet  that  "  if  any  man  draw  back,  God  shall  have 
no  pleasure  in  him  ;"  and  that,  if  we  would  ever  come 
to  heaven  w^e  must  "  give  diligence  to  make  our  calling 
and  election  sure.''' 


G08  HIS  THEOLOGY.  [ChAP. 

It  is  almost  needless  to  observe  to  how  many  charges 
of  error  on  the  right  hand  and  the  left,  this  resolute 
adhercnec  to  the  whole  of  scriptural  instruction  would 
expose  him,  «it  dillVrent  times  and  from  different  classes 
of  men.  The  anti-Calvinist  reproached  him  for  his  Cal- 
vinism, and  the  hyper-Calvinist  called  him  an  Arminian. 
The  mere  moralist  trembled  for  the  consequences  of  his 
antinoynian  doctrine  of  justification;  while  numbers  in 
an  opposite  extreme  considered  his  insisting  upon  the 
evidences  of  faith,  and  the  general  strictness  of  his  teach- 
ing, as  legal,  engendering  a  "  spirit  of  bondage/'  and 
involvinif  a  surrender  of  the  freeness  of  the  gospel,  and 
of  the  privileges  of  the  believer.  He  however  preached 
and  wrote  "  straight  forward/'' — according  to  an  ex- 
pression noticed  above  :  (p.  437,  438  :)  he  constantly 
moved  on  in  the  course  which  he  saw  clearly  marked 
out  before  him,  heedless  of  conflicting  charges,  which 
appeared  to  him  evidently  directed  against  the  prac- 
tice of  scripture,  and  not  against  any  unauthorised  pe- 
culiarity of  his  own.  He  was  fully  of  opinion,  that 
the  church  of  Christ  had  ever  been  grievously  infest- 
ed by  sch-emes  of  divinity,  of  different  kinds,  formed 
by  setting  up  a  part,  often  a  small  part  of  divine 
truth,  to  the  comparative  neglect,  or  even  exclusion 
of  the  rest  :  he  wished  therefore  to  be  constantly  com- 
paring his  own  theology  with  the  whole  of  scripture, 
and  could  never  be  satisfied  while  any  part  of  the  di- 
vine oracles  seemed  not  to  obtain  its  due  portion  of  re-  , 
gard,  or  to  require  any  force  to  be  put  upon  it  to  make 
it  com])ort  with  his  views. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  to  be  here  implied,  that  he 
every  where,  and  on  all  points,  attained  to  a  perfect 
conformity  with  the  word  of  God  :  no  one  could  be 
more  sensible  than  he  was  of  the  error  and  imperfec- 


XVTIL]  HIS  THEOLOGY.  609 

tion  which  must  ever  attend  all  human  attainments. 
But  such  as  have  been  descried  was  his  aim — the  ob- 
ject of  his  incessant  study,  and  unwearied  prayers  : 
and  the  most  that  is  here  affirmed  is,  that  he  appears  to 
have  been  a  thoroughly  scriptural  divine,  as  far  perhaps 
as  we  can  hope  to  see  it  granted  to  the  imperfection  of 
human  nature  to  become  such. 

What  has  been  already  stated  must  virtually  include 
every  thing  else  that  I  can  have  to  observe  on  his  theo- 
logy :  still  there  are  one  or  two  points  which  I  would  no- 
tice more  distinctly. 

I  next,  therefore,  observe  that  his  theology  was  dis- 
tinguished by  •  its  highly  practical  character  : — under 
which  term  I  include  not  only  its  sobrity,  moderation, 
and  freedom  from  refinement  and  speculation,  but  espe- 
cially its  holy  strictness.  The  reader  will,  throughout 
this  work,  have  observed  him  complaining  of  the  degree 
of  antinomianism,  both  theoretical  and  practical,  which 
was  prevalent,  and  against  which  he  accordingly  very 
much  directed  his  efforts,  both  from  the  pulpit  and  the 
press. 

What  were  his  views  of  the  antinomian  tendency  of 
much  public  teaching  may  receive  illustration  from  the 
extract  of  a  letter  inserted  in  an  early  part  of  his  history.* 
It  was  not  merely  where  tenets  positively  antinomian  were 
avowed — where  the  law  was  denied  to  be  the  rule  of  duty 
—where  indeed  "  duty"  was  declared  '*'  not  to  be  a  word 
for  a  Christian" — where  she  trial  of  our  faith  by  its  fruits 
was  discarded — but  wherever  Christians  were  left  unin- 
structed  in  their  various  duties ;  were  only  told  in  gene- 
ral, that  they  must  be  holy,  while  the  nature  and  the 
particulars  of  holiness  were  left  unexplained,  and  little 

*  See  page  201. 

4H 


610  HIS  TMKOL0(iY.  [ChAP. 

else  than  doctrines  and  privileges  were  insisted  on.  In 
all  these  cases  he  thonght  the  teaching  of  an  antinomiam 
tendency. 

Practical  antinomianisin  also  prevailed,  according  to 
his  view  of  things,  not  only  where  men  were  dishonest 
or  licentions  under  a  religious  profession,  (though  many 
such  flagrant  instances  existed.)  but  wherever  worldli- 
ness  of  mind,  luxury,  unchristian  tempers,  the  neglect  of 
relative  duties,  or  a  slothful  and  self-indulgent  omission 
of  the  proper  improvement  of  talents,  was  allowed  under 
a  profession  of  religion. — He  found  when  he  entered 
upon  his  course,  throughout  a  great  part  of  the  religious 
world,  repentance  little  insisted  upon, — faith  represented 
as  very  much  consisting  in  personal  assurance, — religious 
professors  in  general,  with  little  previous  incpiiry,  en- 
couraged and  even  urged  to  keep  up  a  good  opinion  of 
their  own  safe  state  (as  it  must  indeed  be  every  man's 
duty  to  do,  if  such  be  the  nature  of  faith  ;) — the  evidence 
of  holv  fruits  but  dubiously  recpiired  in  order  to  warrant 
any  man's  confidence  concerning  himself — the  love  of 
God  resolved  into  little  more  than  incre  gratitude  for 
benefits  assumed  to  have  been  received  (which  is  easily 
excited  under  such  a  system,  upon  very  fallacious  grounds ; ) 
— y)articular  duties  not  at  all  dwelt  upon— invitations  and 
exhortations  very  much  neglected,  even  where  their 
propriety  was  not  called  in  cpiestion.  It  need  not  here 
be  said  how  directly  he  opposed  himself  to  the  whole  of 
this  scheme  :  how  he  insisted  on  "  repentance,  and  fruits 
meet  for  repentance  ;''  on  the  sanctifying  effects  of  all 
true  faith,  l)y  which  alone  its'existence  can  be  proved  ;  on 
reconciliation  to  the  divine  holiness,  hw,  and  government, 
as  well  as  gratitude  for  mercies  received  ;  and  on  all  the  de- 
tail of  duty — fully  and  particularly  laying  open  the  divine 
law  in  its  strictness  and  extent,  both  for  the  conviction  of  the 


Xnil.j  HIS  THEOLOGY.  611 

sinner,  and  for  the  information  of  the  Christian  believer^ 
^^  how  in  all  things  he  ought  to  walk  and  to  please  God/' 
He  spoke  much  of  the  necessity  o{ distinguishing  preach- 
ing ;  which  should,  as  clearly  as  possible,  discriminate 
not  only  truth  from  error  in  doctrine,  but  the  genuine 
from  the  spurious  in  Christian  experience,  and  the  so\ind 
character  from  the  unsound,  among  'persons  professing 
godliness.  In  this  way  he  commenced,  and  he  persever- 
ed to  the  end — "  abounding  more  and  more  ;''  and  he 
Hved  to  see,  under  God's  blessing,  his  exertions  crowned 
with  great  and  extensive  success. 

But,  lastly,  though  highly  practical,  the  whole  of  his 
theology  was  also  strongly  evangelical: — which  term  I 
here  use  in  no  sense  that  any  person  of  common  fairness 
can  call  sectarian.  I  mean  by  it,  that  the  great  truths 
relating  to  our  redemption,  and  the  promises  of  mercy 
and  grace  made  to  us  in  Jesus  Christ,  were  ever  promi- 
nent in  his  own  mind,  and  in  the  wliole  of  his  instruc- 
tions. He  never  lost  sight  of  them  ;  he  never  threw 
them  into  shade  :  he  could  not  do  it :  he  had  that  constant 
and  deep  sense  of  their  necessity,  as  the  support  of  his 
own  hopes,  and  the  source  of  all  his  strength  and  vigour 
for  every  duty,  which  would  have  effectually  prevented 
his  keeping  them  back,  or  proposing  them  timide  geli- 
deque,  even  if  he  had  not  been  on  principle  so  decidedly 
opposed  as  he  was  to  stich  a  line  of  conduct.  He  held, 
as  Bishop  Burnett  also  did,  that  not  even  a  single  ser- 
mon should  fail  of  so  far  developing  the  principles  of  the 
gospel,  as  distinctly  to  point  out  the  way  of  salvation  to 
the  awakened  and  inquiring  conscience  :  and  that  this 
w^ould  easily  be  done,  by  a  mind  as  fully  inbued  as  it 
should  be  with  Christian  truths,  without  doing  any  vio- 
lence to  the  particular  subject  under  discussion,  or  even 


612  HIS  THEOLOGY,  [ChAP^ 

infringing;  the  rules  of  good  composition.     And,  so  far 
from  thinking  that  a  tendency  towards  an  antinomian 
abiise  of  the  truths  of  the  gos])el  was  to  be  counteracted 
by  a  jealous,  timid,  scanty,  reluctant  exhibition  of  them, 
he  was  decidedly  of  opinion,  that  nothing  gave  more  ad- 
vantage to  corrupt  teachers,  than  such  a  plan  ;  which 
enabled  them  to  appeal  to  their  hearers,  that  they  could 
be  opposed  only  by  a  concealment  of  the  fundaniental 
truths  of  the  gospel.     He  would  guard  these  truths,  not 
by  keeping  them  back,  but  only  by  proposing  them  in 
connexion  with  all  the   other  truths  with  which  they 
stand  combined  in  scripture.     But  a  letter,  already  in- 
serted, may  speak  his  sentiments  upon  this  subject.* — 
And  if  the  testimony  of  another  witness  be  at  all  called 
for,  we  may  adduce  that  of  a  late  venerable  person,  re- 
peatedly  alluded   to   in  this  work,  Mr.   Richardson  of 
York.     Writing  of  him  only  a  few  days  before  his  own 
death,  Mr.  R.  says,  "  I  had  the  highest  respect  for  that 
most  useful,  laborious,  and  honest  man.     He  was  always 
practical,  but  never  tampered  with  the  doctrines  of  grace, 
which  he  taught  clearly  and  fully.     He  is  a  safe  guide, 
never  fanciful,  never  running  into  extremes." 

On  the  last  head,  of  practical  strictness,  a  hope  was 
expressed,  that  an  improvement  had  taken  place  among 
many  of  the  class  of  persons  called  evangelical,  since  my 
father  commenced  his  ministry  :  on  the  present,  may 
there  not  be  room  to  suggest  a  caution,  lest  we,  who  have 
been  brought  up  in  familiarity  with  those  great  truths, 
which  burst  upon  some  of  our  predeccssoi^  with  all  the 
impression  of  a  first  discovery,  should  exhibit  them  less 
vividly,  and  press  them  less  earnestly^  than  our  fathers 

*  See  page  198* 


XVIII.]  CONCLUSION.  615 

did  ;  lest  the  gospel  of  Christ  should  be  diluted^  and  so 
far  at  least  adulterated  in  our  hands? 


Having  thus  accomplished  the  task  which  devolved  on 
me,  of  giving  to  the  public  as  full  and  faithful  an  account, 
as  I  was  able,  of  my  ever  dear  and  honoured  father's  life 
— in  doing  which  I  have  certainly  enjoyed  great  pleasure, 
though  attended  with  considerable  anxiety, — I  shall  now 
take  leave  of  the  reader  by  offering  a  few  reflections  on 
what  has  passed  in  review  before  us. 

1 .  When  I  turned  from  the  solemnities  of  my  father's 
dying  chamber,  the  following  thoughts,  among  many 
others,  forcibly  suggested  themselves  to  my  mind. 

^^  Who  could  stand  and  witness  that  scene,  without 
being  impressed  with  the  reality  and  magnitude  of  those 
objects  which  engrossed  all  his  thoughts  :  about  which  he 
had  always  been  deeply  in  earnest,  but  which  now  called 
forth  in  him  an  earnestness  greater  than  ever  ? 

"  Who  could  contemplate  his  spirit  and  temper,  the 
vigour  'and  fervency  of  his  mind,  the  holy  affections 
which  he  manifested,  and  the  ardour  with  which  he  as- 
pired to  a  higher  state,  without /<?e/m^  sure,  that  he  was 
not  going  to  be  extinguished,  but,  on  the  contrary,  to  rise 
to  a  superior  existence,  the  blessedness  of  which  surpassed 
our  comprehension  ?" 

To  the  same  purport,  may  I  not  now  ask,  can  any  one 
deliberately  survey  the  contents  of  this  volume  ;  the  his- 
tory of  him  to  whom  it  relates ;  the  whole  of  his  spirit 
and  manner  of  life  ;  his  correspondence,  his  conversation 
in  the  world,  and  the  event  of  his  course  ;  without  deri- 
ving from  it  all  a  mqst  impressive  lesson  on  the  reality 
mid  blessedness  of  true  religion? — To  say  one  word  on 


614  CONCI.tJSION.  [ChA^. 

his  sincerity  in  his  prolVssion  would  be  utterly  imperti- 
nent. No  one  does,  no  one  can  call  it  in  question.  His 
religion  was  not  only  sincere,  it  had  a  deep  and  most 
j)Owert'ul  hold  upon  his  mind  ;  it  was  the  all-pervading 
principle  which  governed  his  life.  He  was  every  where 
the  same  :  in  his  private  coi'respondence,  in  the  bosom 
of  his  own  family,  and  in  all  his  intercourse  with  his 
friends.  The  world  was  every  where  subordinated,  and 
reduced  to  a  very  low  rank  indeed  in  his  esteem  ;  God 
and  eternity  were  every  thing.  Indeed,  so  profound 
was  the  impression,  and,  at  the  same  time,  so  wise  and 
consistent  the  conduct  which  it  dictated,  that  it  was  scarce- 
ly possible  to  observe  him,  without  an  inward  conviction 
that  he  was  right,  as  well  as  sincere  ;  that  the  principle 
on  which  he  was  acting  was  sound  and  well  founded. 
Irreligion  could  not  but  stand  abashed  in  his  presence, 
and  pay  the  homage  of  conscious  inferiority  and  worth- 
lessness. 

The  effect  produced  upon  him  by  his  religion  was  in- 
deed iwoat  poivo'fuL  We  have  seen  that  it  made  him  a 
new  man.  It  subdued  his  natural  pride,  and  ambition^ 
and  love  of  the  world,  and  selfishness  ;  and  tifrned  all 
the  energies  of  his  character  into  a  new  channel.  Its 
mighty  influence  was  seen  not  only  in  the  first  great 
change  which  it  accomplished  ;  but  it  continued  and  in- 
creased to  the  end  of  life ;  so  that  patience,  and  meek- 
ness, and  gentleness,  gradually  more  and  more  took  place 
of  natural  ini])etuosity  and  vehemence,  till  at  length  they 
almost  wholly  supj)lanted  their  antagonists. 

The  influence  exerted  upon  him  was,  consequently, 
no  less  excellent  and  blessed  than  it  was  powerful.  It 
was  blessed,  as  his  own  mind  was  concerned  ;  and  it  was 
evidently,  from  the  first,  preparing  him  for  higher  bles- 
sedness, by  making  him  '^  meet  to  be  partaker  of  the  in- 


XVIII.]  CONCLUSION.  615 

heritance  of  the  saints  in  light.'' — It  was  blessed  in  all 
its  effects  upon  his  family  and  near  friends,  and  depend- 
ents :  who  now  "  arise  and  call  him  blessed,''  and  dwell 
with  unspeakable  delight  and  thankfulness  on  what  they 
have  witnessed  in  him,  and  derived  from  him. — Audit 
was  blessed  in  all  that  usefulness  which  followed  from  it 
to  multitudes,  whose  number  shall  then  first  be  known 
when  they  come  forth  to  be  '^  his  joy  and  crown  of  re- 
joicing in  the  day  of  the  Lord  Jesus.'' 

2.  Another  reflection  which  forcibly  suggests  itself, 
arises  from  the  comparison  of  his  early  with  his  more  ad- 
vanced life  ;  of  what  he  originally  was  with  what  he  ul- 
timately became.     Who,  from  the  consideration  of  his 
education,  his  character,  and  the  circumstances  in  which 
he  was  placed,  till  more  than  the  youthful  period  of  life 
had  elapsed,  would  have  anticipated  his   attaining  and 
achieving  what  we  have  seen  him  achieve  and  attain? 
But  this  is  only  one  among  unnumbered  instances  of  the 
like  dispensations  of  Almighty  God.     It  was  not  exclu- 
sively in  the  case  of  the  apostles  and  primitive  Christians, 
taken  in  general  from   the  humblest  classes  of  society, 
that  "  God  chose  the  foolish  things  of  the  world  to  con- 
found the  wise  ;  and  weak  things  of  the  world  to  confound 
the  mighty  ;  and  base  things  of  the  world,  and  things 
which  are  despised,  yea  and  things   which  are  not,   to 
bring  to  nought  things  that  are  :  (1  Cor.  i.  26 — 28  :)  but 
\it  is  surprising,  and  to  the  pious  mind  deeply  and  pleas- 
ingly affecting,  in  looking  back  through  the  histories  of 
ihe  churh  and  of  the  world,  to  observe  how  much  the 
pirinciple  of  this  remark  holds  good.     Not  only  have  the 
most   unpromising  characters  been,  in  many  instances, 
made  monuments  of  the  saving  mercy  and  grace  of  God : 
but  the  most  unlikely  instruments  have  generally  been 
made  the  means  of  effecting  the  greatest  purposes. 


616  CONCLUSION.  [Chap. 

Not  to  ascend  at  all  above  our  own  age,  or  to  depart 
IVom  tlie  particular  class  of  individuals  with  whom  the 
present  memoirs  immediMtcly  connect  us,  (though  it  would 
be  easy  to  do  both  so  as  to  interest  and  affect  the  pioQs 
reader.)  I  may  ask,  who  would  have  anticipated,  in  look- 
ing to  tlieir  early  histories,  that  Newton  should  have  be- 
come so  beloved  and  honoured  a  father  in  the  church  of 
Christ  as  thousands  acknowledge  him  to  be  ;  or  that  Bu- 
chanan should  have  quitted  his  native  Scotland  in  so  sin- 
gular a  manner,  to  prove  the  most  eflicient  leader  in  the 
great  cause  of  Indian  Christianization  ?  No  more  could 
any  one  have  supposed  that  an  almost  outcast  Lincolnshire 
shepherd  would  become  the  commentator  on  scripture, 
whose  work  should  possess  decidedly  the  greatest  practi- 
cal utility,  and  bid  fair  to  be  the  most  widely  read,  of 
any  similar  production  of  the  age. 

Reflections  like  these  may  not,  I  am  aware,  be  agreea- 
ble to  all  readers  :  but,  if  they  be  founded  on  undeniable 
facts,  it  neither  becomes  us  to  rebel  against  them,  nor  to 
avert  our  thoughts  from  them.     The  design  of  divine 
wisdom  in  such  an  ordination  of  events  is  pointed  out,  in 
immediate  connexion  with  the  passage  already  quoted  at 
the  commencement  of  the  present  observations  :   '*  that 
no  flesh  should  glory  in  his  presence but,  accord- 
ing as  it  is  written.  He  that  glorieth,  let  him  glory  in  the 
Lord.''  (1  Cor.  i.  29,  3  .)     And  even  where  this  train 
of  thought  may  lead  us  not  only  to  cases  of  extraordinary 
usefulness,  but  even  to  the  subject  of  the  attainment  of 
that  knowledge  wherein  '  standeth  our  eternal   life,'   it 
will  be  found  to  border  closely  upon  topics,  which  pix)- 
duced  the  only  recorded  instance  of  joy  in  the  breast  of 
him  who  sojourned  here  below  as  "  the  man  of  sorrows  :" 
''  In  that  hour  Jesus  rejoiced  in  spirit,  and  said,  I  thank 
thee,  0  I  ather,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth;  because  thou 


XVIII.]  CONCLUSION.  617 

hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and 
hast  revealed  them  unto  babes !  Even  so,  Father,  for 
so  it  seemed  good  in  thy  sight.''  This  is  the  perfect 
pattern  of  that  humble,  admiring  adoration,  with  which 
those  depths  of  the  divine  counsels  are  to  be  contemplat- 
ed, which^  in  this  world  at  least,  we  must  never  expect  to 
fathom. 

At  the  same  time  instances,  like  those  to  which  we 
have  been  adverting,  furnish  no  excuse  for  the  neglect  of 
the  ordinary  means  of  becoming  both  good  and  useful ; 
nor  any  pretence  for  the  insinuation  sometimes  made,  of 
our  teaching  that  the  way  to  be  "  brought  nigh"  to  God 
is  to  depart  as  "  far  oiT"  from  him  as  possible.  No  : 
whatever  forms  the  "  ordinary''  means  of  conducting  to 
goodness  and  usefulness  possesses  by  virtue  of  its  very 
character,  as  the  ordinary  means,  an  undeniable  claim  to 
be  employed  by  us  ;  and,  where  faithfully  employed,  it 
shall  never  be  in  vain.  This,  however,  shall  not  hinder 
but  that  God  will  from  time  to  shew,  that  he  can  effect 
more  without  our  usual  means,  than  we  can  by  all  our 
means,  without  his  special  blessing  : — just  as  in  the  intel- 
lectual world,  he  sometimes  raises  up  a  genius  which  shall 
surpass,  without  rules  and  instruction,  whatever  minds  of 
the  customary  standard  can  attain  with  all  advantages  in 
their  favour. 

In  like  manner  to  affirm  that  sometimes  God  brings 
nearest  to  himself  those  who  had  wandered  farthest  from 
bim,  affords  not  even  a  plausible  pretext  for  saying,  that 
the  way  to  obtain  abundant  grace  is  to  commit  abundant 
sin.  God  does  sometimes  exhibit  such  monuments  of  his 
mercy  ;  but  these  are  his  extraordinary,  and  not  his  ordi- 
nary works.  The  abuse  of  such  instances  was  guarded 
against  in  an  early  part  of  these  memoirs.*     They  are 

*  See  page  29, 
41 


018  CONCLUSION.  [CllAF. 

what  all  should  admire, — "  to  the  praise  of  the  glory  of 
God's  grace/" — wherever  they  occur,  but  on  the  occur- 
rence of  which  no  man  can,  in  any  given  instance,  calcu- 
late. 

3.  In  the  third  place,  my  father's  history  strikingly 
illustrates  the  immense  advantage  of  such  a  tlwrough 
study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  accompanied  by  constant 
prayer  for  illumination  to  the  great  fountain  of  wisdom, 
as  marked  his  religious  course  from  its  very  commence- 
ment. Tn  this  was  evidently  laid  the  foundation  of  all 
thatsubsequently  distinguished  him  :  of  the  steadiness  and 
consistency  of  his  views ;  of  the  assured  confidence  he 
felt  in  the  principles  which  he  had  embraced ;  of  his  com- 
petence as  an  instructor  and  a  counsellor  ;  of  those  valua- 
ble qualities  which  characterized  his  theology;  and  finally 
of  his  extensive,  and,  it  may  confidently  be  anticipated, 
permanent  usefulness.  And  if  the  question  be  examined, 
it  will,  I  believe,  be  found  that  a  course  of  procedure, 
substantially  similar,  has  pre])ared  for  future  service  al- 
most all  those  divines  who  have  obtained  eminent  repu- 
tation, and  lasting  useftilness,  in  the  church  of  God.  A 
thorough  study  of  the  scriptures  themselves,  with  the  use 
of  proper  helps,  but  without  reliance  upon  them,  and  not 
of  any  mere  human  systems,  should  form  the  basis  of  our 
professional  knowledge.  This  is  a  homage  due  to  the 
word  of  God  ;  and  it  is  the  only  measure  that  can  make 
us  "  grounded  and  settled,"'  '>'  workmen  that  need  not  to 
be  ashamed.'' — Yet  how  greatly  is  it  wanting  even 
among  our  more  serious  and  pious  clergy  !  I  speak  with 
a  painfu  Isense  of  my  own  deficiencies,  in  this  respect ; 
though  without  affecting  to  think  them  greater  than  those 
of  niany  around  me.  If  the  perusal  of  my  fathers  his- 
tory might  promote,  among  the  younger  members  of  the 
clerical  profession,  a  deep  study  of  the  whole  sacred  vol 


XVIII.]  CONCLUSION.  619 

ume,  and,  through  life,  a  constant  comparison  of  all  they 
read  and  hear  with  its  contents,  I  can  conceive  of  no  re- 
sult which  it  would  have  given  him  greater  pleasure  to 
contemplate. 

4.  Lastly  :  I  have  already  pointed  it  out,  as  an  impor- 
tant lesson  suggested  by  my  father's  history,  to  those  who, 
amid  the  difficulties  of  this  world,  are  striving  to  do  good, 
especially  in  the  work  of  the  ministry, — that  a  course, 
which  is  deeply  painful  and  discouraging  at  the  time,  may, 
and,  if  well  supported,  assuredly  will,  prove  highly  use- 
ful in  the  event.  That  my  father's  usefulness  was  great^ 
and  is  likely  still  to  be  so,  I  now  assume.  Yet  that  his 
course  was,  during  the  far  greater  part  of  its  duration, 
painful  and  discouraging  in  no  common  degree,  is  well 
known  to  those  who  had  the  opportunity  of  taking  a  near 
view  of  it,  and  must  be  evident  to  all,  who  have  duly  es- 
timated the  neglect  or  opposition  he  encountered  at  01- 
ney  ;  the  severer  and  more  protracted  conflicts  at  the 
Lock,  maintained  against  prevailing  evils,  and  under  the 
pressure  of  most  disheartening  unpopularity  ;  and  the  dif- 
ficulties with  which  he  had  to  struggle,  more  or  less,  for 
five  and  twenty  years  together,  in  giving  his  Commentary 
on  the  Bible  to  the  world.  Yet  all  has  had  such  an  issue, 
as  may  justly  add  confidence  to  the  faith,  and  animation 
to  the  hope  of  every  true  soldier  and  servant  of  Jesus 
Christ.  In  encountering  difficulties,  and  suffering  dis- 
couragement, in  our  labours  of  zeal  for  God  and  love  to 
mankind,  we  are  but  followers  of  "  those,  who  through 
faith  and  patience, — having  done  the  will  of  God,— now^ 
inherit  his  promises."  Prophets  and  apostles  have  trod 
this  path  before  us :  and  assuredly  what  we  have  to  en- 
counter, compared  with  what  they  overcame,  is  such  as 
may  more  justly  subject  us,  if  we  be  "  weary  and  ftunt 
in  our  minds,''  to  the  reproof  which  was  addressed  to  one 


G20  CONCLUSION.  [Chap.  XVIII. 

of  tlicir  number  :  ^^  It' thou  hast  run  with  the  footmen  and 
thev  have  wearied  thee,  what  wilt  thou  do  if  thou  shalt 
contend  with  horses?" — Even  the  Son  of  God,  is  pro- 
phetically represented  as  tempted  to  say,  while  he  so- 
journed amongs  us,  '^  I  have  laboured  in  vain  and  spent 
mv  strength  for  naught :''  but  he  instantly  subjoins,  (thus 
setting  us  the  perfect  example  of  resignation  and  trust  in 
his  heavenly  Father,)  ^^  Nevertheless  my  work  is  with 
the  Lord,  and  my  judgment  is  with  my  God."  Let  us 
then  assuredly  believe,  that,  in  our  labours  for  others,  as 
well  as  in  our  care  for  our  own  personal  salvation,  '^  He 
thatgoeth  forth  and  weepeth,  bearing  precious  seed,  shall 
doubtless  come  again  with  rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves 
with  him."  And  in  this  confidence  let  us  endeavour, 
after  the  example  of  the  servant  of  God,  whose  unweari- 
ed exertions,  continued  to  the  end  of  a  long  life,  we  have 
been  contemplating,  to  be  "  steadfast,  unmovable,  always 
abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord  ;  forasmuch  as  we 
know  that  our  labour  is  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord."  Amen! 


MEMOIR.  621 


A  BRIEF  MEMOIR 

OF  MR.  SCOTT^S    ELDEST  DAUGHTER,  WHO  DIED  AT 
WESTON  UNDERWOODj  IN   MAY  1780  ; 

Annexed  by  him  to  his  JSTarrative  of  his  oivn  Life. 

"  In  a  former  part  of  this  narrative  I  just  mentioned  the  death 
of  my  eldest  daughter,  aged  four  years  and  a  half,  and  I  shall 
here  subjoin  a  few  more  particulars  respecting  her. — At  the  age 
of  three  years  and  a  half  she  had  a  most  extraordinary  and  dis- 
tressing illness,  so  that  for  several  weeks  she  could  not  be  indu- 
ced to  take  either  medicine  or  nutriment  of  any  kind,  but  what 
was  poured  down  her  throat  almost  by  rtiain  force.  I  had  little 
expectation  of  her  recovery  :  but  I  was  under  a  full  and  deep 
conviction  that  all  the  human  race  are  born  in  sin,  and  are  ut- 
terly incapable  of  happiness  hereafter,  without  regeneration  and 
renovation  by  the  Holy  Spirit.  This,  if  actually  wrought  in  child- 
hood, I  was  satisfied  would  begin  to  shew  itself  about  the  time 
when  children  become  actual  sinners  by  personal  and  wilful  trans- 
gression :  and  I  was  fully  assured  that  she  had  become  an  actual 
sinner.  Seeing  therefore  no  ground  to  believe  that  any  gracious 
change  had  taken  place  in  her,  I  was  greatly  distressed  about 
her  eternal  state  :  and  I  repeatedly  and  most  earnestly  besought  the 
Lord  that  he  would  not  take  her  from  me,  without  affording  me 
some  evidence  of  her  repentance,  and  faith  in  his  mercy  through 
Jesus  Christ. 

"  To  the  surprise  of  all  she  recovered,  and  lived  just  another 
year.  Half  of  this  year  was  remarkable  for  nothing,  except  the 
proofs  which  she  gave  of  a  very  good  understanding,  and  the 
readiness  with  which  she  learned  whatever  was  taught  her.  In- 
deed she  almost  taught  herself  to  read  ;  and  was  so  much  the  as- 
tonishment of  our  neighbours,  that  they  expressed  a  persuasion 
that  she  would  not  live  long— which  I  treated  with  contempt. 
But  about  the  middle  of  the  year,  on  my  return  home  one  even- 
ing, my  wife  told  me  that  her  daughter  had  behaved  very  ill, 
and  been  so  rebellious  and  obstinate,  that  she  had  been  constrain- 


iV22  MEMOIK. 

cd  to  correct  her.  In  consequence  I  took  her  between  my  knees, 
and  bej^an  to  talk  to  her.  I  told  her  she  had  often  heard  that 
she  was  a  sinner  a.e^ainst  God  :  that  sin  was  breaking  the  com- 
mandments of  God  :  that  he  had  commanded  her  to  honour  and 
obey  her  father  and  mother;  but  that  she  had  disobeyed  her 
mother,  and  thus  sinned  against  God  and  made  him  angry  at 
her — far  more  angry  than  her  mother  had  been  :  that  she  had 
also  often  heard  that  she  must  have  a  new  heart  or  disposition  ; 
that,  if  her  heart  or  disposition  were  not  wicked,  she  would  not 
thus  want  a  new  one ;  but  that  her  obstinate  rebellious  conduct 
to  her  mother  (with  some  other  instances  which  I  mentioned,) 
shewed  that  her  heart  was  wicked  :  that  she  therefore  wanted 
both  forgiveness  of  sins  and  a  new  heart,  without  which  she 
could  not  be  happy  in  another  world,  after  death.  I  went  on 
to  talk  with  her,  in  language  suited  to  her  age,  concerning  the 
love,  and  mercy,  and  grace,  of  Christ,  in  a  manner  which  I  cannot 
now  particularly  describe  :  but  my  heart  was  much  engaged,  and 
out  of  the  abundance  of  my  hearty  my  mouth  afioke  :  and  I  con- 
cluded with  pressing  it  upon  her  constantly  to  pray  to  Jesus 
Christ  to  forgive  her  sin  ;  to  give'  her  a  new  heart  ;  and  not  to 
let  her  die  till  he  had  indeed  done  so. 

"  I  have  good  ground  to  believe  that,  from  that  time  to  her 
death,  no  day  passed  in  which  she  did  not,  alone,  more  than  once, 
and  with  apparent  earnestness,  pray  to  Jesus  Christ  to  this 
effect ;  adding  petitions  for  her  father,  mother,  and  brothers,  and 
for  her  nurse — to  whom  she  was  much  attached.  At  times 
we  overheard  her  in  a  little  room  to  which  she  used  to  retire ; 
and  on  some  occasions  her  prayers  were  accompanied  with 
sobs  and  tears.  Once  she  was  guilty  of  an  untruth ;  and  I  rea- 
soned and  expostulated  with  her  on  the  wickedness  of  lying.  I 
almost  seem  now  to  hear  her  subsequent  confessions  in  her  re- 
tirement; her  cries  for  forgiveness;  her  prayers  for  a  new  and 
better  heart ;  and  that  she  might  not  not  die  '  before  her  new 
heart  came.'  She  could  scarcely  proceed  for  sobs  and  tears. — 
In  short  there  was  every  thing  in  miniature,  which  I  ever  wit- 
nessed or  read  of  in  an  adult  penitent :  and  certainly  there  were 
fruits  meet  for  refientance  ;  for  nothing  reprehensible  afterwards 
occurred  in  her  conduct. 

"  Just  at  this  time  the  Olney  Hymns  were  published :  and, 
without  any  one  putting  her  up  on  it,  she  got  many  of  them  by 


MEMOIR.  623 

heart ;  and  for  some  months  the  first  voice,  which  I  heard  in  the 
morning,  was  her's,  repeating  these  hymns,  and  those  of  Dr. 
Watts :  and  frequently  she  would  come  to  me  to  tell  me  what  a 
beautiful  hymn  she  had  found,  and  then  repeat  it  without  book. 

"  I  might  recite  many  of  her  sayings,  which,  parental  partiality 
apart,  I  must  think  surpassed  what  I  have  heard  from  one  so 
young.  The  favourite  servant,  who  has  been  mentioned,  some- 
times used  the  name  of  God  or  Lord  in  an  improper  manner,  and 
the  child  would  affectionately  remonstrate  with  her,  and  say, '  Do 
not  use  such  words,  Kitty  :  you  will  certainly  go  to  hell  if  you  say 
such  naughty  words.'  She  evidently  understood  the  great  out- 
lines of  the  plan  of  salvation.  '  Papa,'  she  said, '  you  preached 
to-day  concerning  the  Lamb's  blood.'  I  answered, '  What  does 
that  mean  ?'  She  replied,  *The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Lamb 
of  God  which  taketh  away  the  burden  of  sin  out  of  our  hearts.' — 
The  day  preceding  her  death,  she  read  to  me  a  chapter  in  St, 
John,  in  which  the  Jews  charged  Jesus  with  breaking  the  sabbath. 
On  this  she  paused  and  said,  *  Papa,  did  Jesus  Christ  ever  break 
the  sabbalh  ?'  I  answered '  No  :  but  he  did  good  on  the  sabbath- 
day,  and  his  enemies  called  that  breaking  the  sabbath.'  '  I 
thought  so,'  she  said  :  '  Jesus  was  always  good  ;  but  we  are  all 
naughty  till  he  makes  us  good.  Peter  was  a  good  man  :  but 
Peter  was  naughty  till  Jesus  Christ  made  him  good.' 

"  When  any  minister  or  pious  friend  carrie  to  see  me,  no  play 
or  amusement  would  draw  her  away  from  us  when  our  conversa- 
tion was  on  religious  topics.  She  would  stand  fixed  in  attention, 
and  evidently  interested  in  what  was  said.  She  seldom  spoke 
on  these  occasions ;  but  she  would  sometimes  ask  me  questions 
afterwards  on  what  she  had  heard. 

"The  day  before  she  died  the  Rev.  Mr.  Powley  of  Dewsbury, 
in  Yorkshire,  (who  had  married  Mrs.  Unwin's  daughter,)  had 
engaged  to  come  to  see  me,  and  to  preach  in  the  evening.  After 
dinner  I  employed  myself,  as  I  frequently  did,  in  sawing  wood 
for  fuel.  She  came  and  prattled  with  me,  and  several  times  by 
degrees  got  so  near  me,  that  I  feared  the  large  pieces  of  wood 
would  fall  on  her.  I  sent  her  further  off:  yet  still,  intent  on  our 
talk,  she  crept  near  again,  till  at  length  a  very  large  log,  which 
could  scarcely  have  failed  to  kill  her,  had  it  fallen  upon  her,  rolled 
down,  and  only  just  missed  her.  While  very  thankful  for  her  pre- 
servation, little  did  I  think  that  a  very  few  hours  would  deprive 
me  of  my  darling  child. 


&2i  MEMOIK. 

**  I  had  scarcely  got  into  the  house  to  prepare  for  my  visitant, 
when  she  came  to  me  and  said,  '  I  am  very  sick  :  what  must  I  do  ?' 
I  said,  'you  must  pray  for  patience.'  She  asked, '  What  is  pa- 
tience ?'  and  before  I  could  answer,  she  was  so  ill  that  she  could 
only  go  into  the  next  room  to  the  servant,  where  the  most  violent 
symptoms  followed.  As  I  was  engaged  with  my  friend,  and  with 
the  preaching,  havingordered  her  some  medicines,  I  did  not  see 
her  for  several  hours  :  but  when  I  did  I  was  fully  convinced  that 
her  sickness  was  fatal.  Some  further  means  were  used,  but 
wholly  without  effect;  and  she  expired  at  ten  o'clock  the  next 
morning,  while  repeating  the  Lord's  prayer,  the  concluding  words 
of  which  were  the  last  she  spoke. 

"  Her  disorder  was  an  attack  of  scarlet  fever,  which  Dr.  Kerr 
stated  to  be  of  a  very  peculiar  kind,  and  that  the  case  was  hope- 
less from  the  first.  I  had  attended  fifty  or  sixty  persons  in  that 
disease,  and  all  recovered  except  my  own  child. 

"  She  died  on  the  Thursday  morning,  and  on  the  next  evening 
at  my  lecture  at  Ravenstone,  where  I  had  undertaken  to  preach 
through  part  of  the  book  of  Job,  the  text  which  came  in  course 
■was  Job  i.  21 — T/ie  Lord  gave  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away  : 
Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord  I  and  on  this  I  preached  not- 
withstanding the  death  of  my  child.  It  would  be  in  vain  to  at- 
tempt to  describe  either  my  anguish  or  my  exultation  on  this 
trying,  yet  animating  occasion.  Sorrow  and  joy  succeeded  each 
other  in  the  highest  degree,  and  often  in  the  most  raj)id  manner, 
that  I  ever  experienced  :  and  sometimes  they  were  pathetically, 
dolefully,  yet  sweetly  intermingled.  Prayer  and  thanksgiving 
seemed  my  main  employment.  I  never  obtained  such  a  victory 
over  the  fear  of  death  as  by  looking,  for  a  long  time  together,  on 
her  corpse.  Gradually  sorrow  abated,  and  joy  prevailed  ;  and  I 
often  said,  I  would  not  exchange  my  dead  child  for  any  living 
child  in  the  world  of  the  same  age.  Some  have  told  me  that  her 
religious  turn  was  only  the  effect  of  her  hearing  so  much  on  the 
subj(;ct,  and  had  nothing  so  extraordinary  in  it  :  but  I  never 
could  see  any  thing  of  the  same  kind  in  my  other  children  at  so 
early  an  age,  nor  till  they  were  much  older;  though  they  had  at 
least  the  same  advantages." 

THE  END. 


